December, Sweet
by GP06FR
Summary: We met once at that bar, not far from campus, and for a long time I thought he was just another guy, just another pretentious PhD. He was. He is. He is also a little more. E x B. AH.
1. Prologue

_Note_: I remember wanting to write a Twilight fanfiction since the beginning of time itself, but there was never an opportunity for it, and there was a never good enough to write with this fandom. Some of the stories I've read here have been the most eye opening ideas I've ever come across.

I feel like the Winter season always reminds me of the canon and decided to take a shot. This will be approximately twelve chapters long, and I really hope I decide to see this one to the end before the month ends.

_Disclaimer_: Everything but the plot and scenario are property of the author, S. Meyer.

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><p><em>prologue<br>24th December 2004  
><em>

It would've been any other night, really. Ever since I moved away to college Renée pretty much pretends that her little daughter sprouted wings that took her off to a distant galaxy and while Charlie tries, Charlie is Charlie. And what's worse is that I'm not entirely too sure why this is even on my mind. I mean, the music's hot, there's definitely some hot dude who'd like to make out with a nineteen year old engineering student slash virgin, but here I am, sulking about lost causes and lost lives.

Christmas sucks, basically. You know why? There's too much to ask for, there's too much to give, and nobody gives as much they ask for, ever.

"I know, right?" his voice is pleasant, louder than the music. "Everybody's got things they want and apparently, so do I. That's irony for you."

I look at him then. He's not as pretty as he is shabby. Immediately he turns me off. My night was ruined already, and I definitely don't need an alcoholic junkie old dude on my case. I know I don't.

"Well, see any young dudes who aren't alcoholics around here?"

His accent is so off putting. And I finally realize that my jaw is doing the work my mind is supposed to be doing. How original, a blabbermouth vodka drinking virgin.

"Why do you keep saying virgin like that?"

"Because," I deliberately pause, taking in the air, the smell of the pub, the heavy dance music that's filled the night and the sincere effort that everyone's putting into being their most trashy selves. God, I stink at this scene. "Virgins don't go places."

"And tramps do?"

He's very logical to have made the assertion that the opposite of a virgin is a tramp. But then, he's old. Of course he's logical, that's all old people have in the form of that golden wisdom they store away. "I don't know. My best friend definitely is."

"Maybe she's not really worth comparing yourself to. And fucking stop calling me old. I'm twenty four, not a hundred and four." He swings his beer bottle almost a ninety degrees to his face before putting it down on the bar. "What's got you here alone?"

"I'm not alone. Jess..." I look around, searching for her red sweater that screams tramp nowhere in sight. "Is not here."

He sounds sly when he says, "Probably going places virgins don't go."

I don't respond. I mean, I don't even want to talk to people right now, let alone strange old men at bars.

"Then why is your mouth moving?"

"I think I'm drunk."

"You think?"

His accent is growing on me. I shouldn't be appreciating it as much as I am. "Did you hear that?" I check with him, turning to him, observing his brown corduroys, his grey gloves, wondering if it started snowing again.

"Hear what?"

Okay. "What's your name?"

"Masen."

I nod.

"This is the part where you tell me your name."

Another song, another red sweater passes me by, another drink gushes down my throat. I'm hoping right now that I've got the finance for these shots going down my throat. "Bella."

"Well, you're like a ball of Christmas right here, starting from that name of yours."

I snort. "Bells? Yeah, Charlie's name for me. Jake's, too."

"Who are these extremely distinguished sounding people you keep speaking of?"

"Charlie's my dad..."

"... weird to call your dad by his name."

And eventually, he's just completing all my sentences like so.

"And Jake's my ex-boyfriend..."

"... damn weird your ex called you the same thing your dad did. What'd he call you in bed?"

I look over at him pointedly.

His eyes burn hazel, green and some other kind of lemon colour before his gaze drops to his empty beer bottle. "Oh, right."

"Do you think there's a point to any of this?"

He doesn't answer me. Well, I may have been too drunk to hear him respond, until... "I don't think the point is to think about that."

I mull over what he says before answering, "Then what is the point?"

He doesn't answer this time for sure, because the ten seconds that pass feel like a good half hour.

"My parents are splitting up." He tells me. "Never thought I'd see the day Carlisle would leave good old Esme."

"You use their first names."

"I was adopted."

"Oh."

So much for my pity train.

"It isn't a bad thing. Getting adopted is great, and since my biological parents were pronounced dead I had nowhere to run to. No drama shows during my teenage years. No flitting off to the idea that my 'real' parents would've treated me better 'cause trust me, no one's got a mom like Esme.

"I'm a Cullen now." He says sadly. "Cullens are achievers. Cullens go places."

It occurs to me that he doesn't tell me about his father, but I'm so distracted by the pretty green lights that dance across his skin, the floor, the bar, it doesn't occur to me to ask. "So where did you go?" I remember him saying he's gone places. I've gone places. I've done things.

Right?

"Here. To the bar. To get a beer, and apparently talk to some chick wearing antlers on her head and drinking vodka straight up like no one's business."

I don't talk for some time. "I hate where I'm headed."

His pant leg is touching mine. I don't know how long that's been the case, but I think I don't like it. I don't like the warmth, I don't like the cosy feel of it, and I don't like how it feels familiar even though nothing about this guy is familiar. I want to tell him to move it away but he speaks before I could. "Feeling lonely and miserable?"

I nod. I feel like crying. "My parents must love me a lot, but sometimes it feels like that's just not enough."

He nods I think. I don't know. Maybe that's what he does when he doesn't reply. I don't reply either, and we just sit here wallowing in self pity, and I'm not sure whose.

Somehow I feel like the world's let me down, and I don't want to tell him that I think I wasn't ready for it, not yet, not when it was so cruel and harsh. Not when it wasn't ready for me.

_"why did you go_  
><em>little four-paws?<em>  
><em>you forgot to shut<em>  
><em>your big eyes."<em>

I look to him, his voice serene now as he recites something under his breath, something that sounds like poetry. "You wrote that?"

"Cummings did. Thought it was appropriate."

I don't know how it was appropriate. I think I tell him so.

"Don't worry about not knowing the how. Poetry is meant to be felt right here." His hand is over his heart, as if a gesture to tell me to feel my own. I wonder how hard his heart must be beating right about now, because I can feel mine, subtle and slow, easy and gone. Almost dead, really. Almost dead. "Everything and anything that makes this beat... that's poetry for you."

I snort. "You're a romantic."

"And you're a realist. Can't say we need any more of those."

I know better than to drink more, but something is lulling me tightly towards the darkness, and my head is sloshing with the words he's told me, echoing through the walls of my imagination. "If you say so."

So the next thing I know, it's midnight, so it's officially Christmas. I feel like Scrooge right now, because I know better than to feel hopeful. There's nothing left. Not when everything's like this.

"Do you ever just remember things?" I ask him.

"All the time."

I breathe rather harshly, for one single inhalation. "My mother's lover molested me as a child."

"Not your dad?"

I shake my head. I know I do, because everything feels like it might fall to the ground as I make the move. "She cheated on Charlie from time to time he wasn't in town. I guess she's over it now, because I don't know how they made that work."

Masen doesn't say anything for a long time, longer than any of our other shared silences.

"I remembered this while I was putting up Christmas decorations. I don't know, I saw a red velvet Christmas hat and held it in my hands and one thing led to another and I just... remembered."

No awkward silence follows, though none of our silences thus far were awkward. "Are you going to tell your mom?"

I think about it again, as I have been since last night, when Jess tried to snap me out of it but nothing could snap away what I'd remembered. "It would kill Charlie. It would kill them."

"There's no need to care about what would kill them."

I'm going to fall asleep. I know I am. Everything's closing, and my eyes are, too. "I have to care about what would kill them."

I don't know what he says, but I just die out hoping that he's not another Phil. I don't think he is, because I don't think I'm that stupid or that bad a judge of character.

"Merry Christmas, Bella." He says, his voice low, and the last thing I remember.


	2. Subtleties

_Thanks_ to: SunFlowerFran and puasluoma for reviewing, ogracefulone for following, and rerespfan for favouriting!

_Note_: I guess I'm done with four chapters, and I kind of like where this is headed. Hope you guys, too! Do read and review, and maybe we can chat?

_Disclaimer_: Twilight belongs to Meyer, as known.

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><p><em>Chapter one: Subtleties<em>  
>December 24th 2005<p>

I almost don't go out this year after what happened last year, but Jess pulls me out of my dorm room last minute without listening to my protests. "Trust me, Larry's is fucking awesome. You've got to check it out."

"We went last week." I remind her. "I tried the scotch and that's the reason you have one less sweater in your closet."

She looks sideways at me as we step out of campus, the trees swinging off bits of snow as we walk past them, as if they were alive. "Yeah, thanks for the memories, Swan. Just... trust me, alright?"

"Why bring me, Jess?"

"Because," she halts in front of me, her form determined. "It's tradition! We're the only girls in EC,"

"There's Angela, too."

"Fine, we're the cool ones, the ones who know how to get a party started. Please, don't ditch me in the holidays. You know I can't go home, and God knows, you don't want to."

I don't. She isn't wrong about that. "Alright."

"Thank you. See? Traditions are awesome." She leads us onto the dark streets, white with snow, cold as ice. I don't bother telling her that traditions take time, mostly generations, but she isn't wrong. It isn't nice to be alone during the holidays, even in a dorm.

"You are not allowed to leave my side this year." Jess tells me as we get into Larry's, around eleven, I note. And it is nice. There's Christmas decorations and rock music in the air, very unlike how it usually is. "Tradition or not, I will freak if I see some douche-bag stroking your hair at midnight while you're passed out."

I want to roll my eyes, but Jess has a flair for the dramatic, and I can't say her rant is very unlike her dramatic self. Seriously, like, if you've got things you want to take up with the world, I'd suggest you find someone else to argue with, because Jessica will rip your sanity to shreds. And am I glad we're not friends like last year anymore. We went our separate ways, thank every snowflake, and this is practically the third time I'm seeing her this year, counting the one going back to new year's eve.

I shiver thinking about the last of her sentence, though, and that makes me realize how stupid I was. "Never again." I promise her. "When's Ben getting here?"

"In sometime. Mike's coming, too."

I roll my eyes now. "Of course."

"Oh don't roll your eyes. He's not that big an ass."

I don't comment, and we part ways when she tells me she needs to use the ladies room. And I keep my promise. This time the pub's playing country music, and the bar is overcrowded so I head over to the side and wait, pulling out my pager to make sure I haven't missed Charlie's call. Nope, he hasn't called. Sighing, I look up and find the room lit with the same green lights, now twined with red flakes as well, dancing around the room, making me feel like a cat running after a red dot.

"Bella?"

I'm sincerely hoping that isn't someone from class. I mean, I know there isn't any way I could tolerate Jess but someone from class?

"Hey," I reply, and I don't really see his face as much as I do hers. She's pretty, whoever she is, dangling off of his arm. "Uh..."

"Oh, you don't remember me? Old alcoholic junkie dude?"

A flash. "Masen?"

"You remember me after all." His eyes burst with concern. "How're you doing?"

Why is there concern in his eyes? God, what did we talk about? What'd I tell him? "I'm doing well. How're you?"

"Good, good. Uh, this is Rose, my sister."

"Hi."

She doesn't respond; just nods and smiles primly. I remember something vaguely about his family, but all that's gone now. I seem to have repressed everything about last year, and the months following it, into a small black box, unwilling to open it, especially during the holidays.

"And Jasper was right here, but he isn't. That's my brother. And where the hell did Tanya run off to?"

Rose looks around. "The washroom I guess. I'll look."

Masen doesn't nod, but they exchange some sort of gesture that implies that he'll be here, with me, which is disconcerting because I'm wishing how much I'd rather be alone right now. He smells like trees, and something else I can't quite place. He's warm and nice looking, his hair in complete disarray. It's kind of... familiar.

I roll my eyes inwardly. Familiar. Huh.

"What're you doing here?"

I stop trying to judge him with all my might and focus on his question instead of his crooked nose and where it came from. "Came with some friends. What about you?"

Red strips of decoration catches my eye and I look around at the mistletoe slyly tucked into every other corner, at the tree by the entrance, at the bar decked up like Santa's halls, suddenly very aware and very amazed that this is Larry's the pub, the same Larry's I got wasted in last year. If it looked like this last year, I'd have thought twice, because it almost looks like someone's hallways, like someone actually lives here. "Oh I'm supposed to be meeting my girlfriend and her brother." He tells me, looking around, probably wondering what I'm doing. "We decided to come here."

I nod, wondering why the heck I don't have a boyfriend situation so this session of small talk isn't so awkward, because mentioning Jess would be a waste of time, and I know it.

"How's Renee? And Charlie?"

My eyebrows rise minutely. "They're... okay. Man, what did I tell you?"

He laughs, soft, easy, and confident. I hate him all over; from those magnificent eyes to his skin to the stubble he has growing to the girlfriend he has that I haven't even met yet. Damn his perfect life. Damn it all back to wherever he's from. I think I didn't particularly like him back then either, but I'm not sure right now. If only I didn't drink so much that I practically drowned in potato slush. "If it helps matters, I haven't repeated it to a soul."

"You don't know me or where I go. How does that matter?"

His eyes brighten. "You go to GWU. My sister goes there. She's graduating this year."

"Rose?"

"No, Alice."

My eyes sparkle. "Alice Cullen? Short, pixie hair, loud personality?"

He laughs again. "Yes, that's her. Boy, you are quick with names."

"We spoke once about ongoing research on electronic devices and its repercussions on the economy. We ended up on a debate team together. That was way back in my first semester, though. She probably doesn't remember me."

"Well, we could find out. She'll be here tonight."

I nod, but I don't say more.

"You're not as chatty as last year." He moves into the bar, pushing past the red of the crowd. "What are you having?"

"A long island, thanks."

"Oh, too many of those and we'll be reliving some good times." He leans toward me, and then dips into my hair, my ears and whispers, "I'll keep the fact that you're underage to myself." He doesn't wink or smirk as he says it, but something about what he says makes me wonder if it was really a good time, and if I even told him how old I was or if he just knew. Because he seems like that kind of guy, the guy who knows things, the guy who's on to everyone's business, just because people trust him.

"How'd you know I'm underage?" Why wonder forever? If there's one thing I've learnt in this past year, it's to make sure your doubts are cleared, and quick. I mean, know I look young, but everyone does nowadays.

He shrugs before turning back to the bartender. "You told me."

Once he's told the bartender where to find us with some alcohol, and right now I can't remember what I asked for, he lures me into a talk about his life this year, which is enunciated with many silences, and I realize I have no idea where everybody is.

Looking around, I voice out my fears. "I thought Jess went to the washroom. She's been gone long."

He shrugs something out of a coat. A cigarette. Figures. Holding it in one hand, he shoves deep into his coat again, probably for a light. "She's always gone. Your taste in people makes me fearful."

I look up in defiance. "We're not friends. She's... company."

"Like I am?"

I don't answer. God, he is a brute. "I'll get out of your way." So there isn't any _more_ of this soul searching thing we're doing, I want to continue to tell him. So you don't know me and I don't know you.

He lights his cigarette and breathes. "I'd love it if you stuck around. We're right over there."

So that's how I found myself at the table I was at, the Cullens' table. Boy, were they a happening bunch.

And Masen's girlfriend. If I thought Rose was hot, then Tanya was another thing altogether. Hot, sexy, mother numbingly sensual... she was every guy's wet dream. But Jasper didn't seem interested in getting to know Masen's girlfriend, because they were meeting for the first time. I knew as much. Rose was chatting up some guy, who I later found out was Tanya's brother, Emmett, and I was just quietly moseying along with my business, drinking through a straw I now put a hole in, thanks to all the nervous chewing, until Jasper turned to me and smiled.

"What do you do, Bella?" he asked me as I surveyed the crowd for any sign of Ben, Mike, Angela or even Jess. Even Alice. A familiar face would've been nice, but I guess familiar faces aren't for me. Not this time of the year. Not since I can't go home, for obvious reasons, and my parents have no understanding why.

"I'm an engineer, majoring in electronics and communication. You?"

"Assistant professor specializing in the linguistics department at U Penn. Are you studying at GWU?"

I nod, not knowing what to ask, if I even cared. "Yeah. Oh. Wow. You guys are old."

He laughs. "Not that old, I promise you." He pauses, drinks a sip of his beer and swallows. "How do you know Masen?"

For some reason I think that name does not suit him, as I look over at him across the table, his hands wrapped into Tanya's, his hair the colour of every leaf in the autumn season, his personality radiating some name, a name that definitely does not fit a Masen. His face is familiar, but for some reason I rejected his name. I rejected everything about him. "We met here last year."

"At the pub? That's got to have been rough."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, our parents split up last year, decidedly on Christmas eve, and I couldn't find him for hours. Alice was so worried."

Oh. I don't... "I didn't know."

"Well, I didn't think he'd say anything. Masen's not the kind of guy to talk about his feelings."

He doesn't say it bitterly, just like it was a fact. I think I get it. I nod. "I guess that explains why he was here as long as he was. My friend Jess told me I passed out and he helped her get me back to campus."

"You're very pretty, though. You and Masen didn't date?"

I feel appalled at the suggestion. "No! He's like a whole decade older than me."

This catches Masen's attention, from somewhere that feels like across the universe, and his voice booms, "You fucking swine, I told you I was twenty four! Stop making me your grandfather, Jingle Bells!"

Jingle bells? What?

"That's a nice nickname for Bella." Alice. I'd know her anywhere. That ringing voice, that small pixie face, even in the pale winter night, even in this pub, her eyes easy and knowing, and her smile perky yet gentle. "Well thought out."

"_Thy fingers make early flowers of all things_."

Alice groans, along with the rest of the table, when one thing sits in. "You recite poetry. I remember this." I feel like a child on Christmas morning, grateful for some recollection of the few moments we spent together this time, a year ago. "You don't write it though."

"No," he confirms, with Tanya's eyes swooning all over his right profile, but his eyes on something behind me. "I don't."

"Well, it's bad enough that he's only studying it, and not writing it. Imagine our plight then." Jasper mocks him, making me smile, before someone's hands are over my eyes, clammy ones, ones that I know from before.

"Mike." I mutter, suddenly not too excited about leaving the table.

"Bella," his voice is happy, but something about him is reserved. "We're all here. Ready to kick start the night?"

I groan inwardly while moving to stand, and Jasper moves to help me almost immediately.

"Why don't you stay?"

That's Masen's voice again, all familiar, even if I have no idea what the man is made of, and while I was tempted to think about his offer, Tanya did not like that idea, not in the least. Her biting look makes me want to bite her head off, but she's none of my business, and neither is Masen. We've met twice in a year, and he's not even company. She's nothing, and he's nothing. I think I tell myself that so I can walk away without any scars. Confrontation has never been my strongest suit. I shake my head. "Maybe another time."

"Maybe next year, huh? Make it a tradition and all that."

I laugh. Yeah, right. "Merry Christmas, Masen."

"Merry Christmas, Bella."

And all the way to my table I wanted to look back, while Mike talks my ear off, so I do. Just once, though, and I see a bunch of people sitting at a table almost as if around a small space empty, a space where I sat, and moving on with that space as it were, without disturbing it, without moving to fill it, but just moving. Soft music fills the air and I realize how different this year is from last year, how the agony and despair only dulled into loneliness. I could see them chattering, I could see them together, fluidly, moving toward the new year without my filling the spaces that were left by them. So when Masen moves to kiss Tanya, and their lips attach, I dismiss the thought of going back to fill that space.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Do review!<p> 


	3. Swan-like

Note: I thought I'd keep this long and 12 chapters but I'm changing my mind rapidly. From now on it's going to be 1.5k words per chapter and... well, you know the rest.

Thanks to: SunFlowerFran and puasluoma for the encouragement, and deadliestdistractionRN for following.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

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><p><em>Chapter two: Swan-like<em>

_January 2006_

"Happy new year, Bells."

"You, too. How's it going?"

"Good. Heard you're ripping those science geeks up there."

Smile. "They're called engineers."

Laughs. Smile. "Whatever babe. Listen, I'm handing it back to your dad. Call me once in a while?"

"Yes, Jake."

Shuffle. "Bells." Pause. "Happy new year."

"You, too, Dad. How're you guys?"

Pause. "Good. Your mom's handling some function for the kids in the school."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I'll ask her to give you a call."

"No, that's fine." Pause. Breath. Shuffle. "How're you?"

"I'm doing fine, Bells. Work's been messy, but it's close to retirement years."

Smile. "I'm glad you're getting out in one piece."

"All of us are."

Pause.

"Well, I'll talk to you later, Dad."

"Keep in touch."

"I will."

February 2006

I ran into Masen at Starbucks down on sixth. I rarely go up to that neighbourhood, but Angela insisted we work at her place rather than at mine, and it made sense since she had a desktop to work on. The circuit we'd been working on finally pumped into action and now all we needed to do was figure out how the hell to connect to a wireless remote control device.

And here was Masen. I was waiting for my drink when they walked in. Suddenly I'm thankful he didn't spot me first. Up until then I never really thought about him, but I did wonder about Alice graduating so I had thought of checking up on her a couple of times these past few months, just to see how she was doing, get some advice on my ongoing project. Another girl friend, again, and somehow I'm not quite that surprised. Masen is many things, and seems quite down to earth, but heavily caked with male testosterone. And I doubt he isn't aware of it. "Hi."

He's surprised to see me. His eyes sparkle green and suddenly, that's the only colour I can remember. "Bella." He sounds amused. "Are you following me?"

His comment should be off putting, and anybody else would've made me feel disconcerted, but not Masen. Oh, that familiarity I thought we didn't have. Well... we have it now. "Not so much. Hello," I say to the girl next to him, unsuspecting and less biting than Tanya, who I did not miss that much. "I'm Bella Swan."

"That's your last name?" the girl snorts. "You must've gotten pushed down on the playground a lot."

Masen seems gone for a second, but he's back with a comment soon. "Rather poetic, though. Swan like. Swan." He observes my neck, with a look of something distant passing his eyes and then he grins, putting up a cupped palm, mimicking a swan's head I supposed, and I laugh.

"I'm not all too swan like, trust me." I hear myself say as I look over the crowd for my drink. "I can't even dance."

"Swans don't dance either."

The girl clears her throat rudely, so I stuff my fingers into my jacket and wonder out loud. "What's your name again?"

"Bree."

"Hi, Bree." I squint at my wrist watch. "And would you look at the time? I'm sorry, I'd love to chat but I've got a meeting with my project group and I'm late." I emphasize on the last word, hoping my latte isn't any longer, and it isn't. Everything until then was perfect, and talking to Masen was always easy. It suddenly struck me that I was never uncomfortable around him. Jake made me want to jump out of my own skin, and he was literally the only male interaction I'd had after Charlie. Ben and Mike... I think somewhere I haven't yet registered they're male. And here I am, next to Masen for the third time. I still don't know what he does, where he studies, how his mind works. I have no idea what the hell makes me so comfortable around him but it's a fleeting moment of trust, a passing one, but an enduring one nonetheless.

Only after I'd been out of the coffee shop did I realize that Masen didn't say anything. So when I turned the corner into my street I wondered why he was running down the pavement screaming my name.

He was out of breath, and shaking profusely. "What..." pant "Are..." pant "You... doing... for..." pant "dinner?"

"I don't date."

Nothing about him says that what I just uttered without supervision comes as surprise to him. He just stood straight, heaved one last deep breath and sighed. "What about Jake?"

"I told you about Jake?"

"You told me some things about a certain person named Jake."

I stand there stunned into an overwhelming moment. Why did I tell him this? It had to have been that night. That damned night and my decision to drink. "Could you please spare me the banter and just tell me what happened that night?"

He's taller than me, but not so tall that my neck hurts looking up at him. He's not bulky, he's lean. He's not dirty, he's clean. He's clean shaven today, and his eyes are truly happy to be upon my own, as if he'd been hoping this would happen. "Maybe we've been putting off a possible friendship, Bella Swan. And I hadn't realized how true that was until I heard your last name."

"Did you?"

"And for what happened that night: nothing. Nothing happened." His eyes seem severe as he continues. "Nothing happened that night."

I roll my eyes. "I didn't mean sex."

"I didn't think you did."

This was getting insulting very fast. "I'm sorry, Masen, I just don't date. It's not my thing. I don't think I can handle being around a man very well, so you see that I'm sparing you the trouble."

He mulls over what I've said as I back away into what feels like the colder parts of the pavement. "I don't recall saying I'd like to have dinner to date you."

He makes me feel young with all that openness. I feel my face, knowing it's pale from the cold weather. "That's generally where dinners lead."

"Well, would you rather we meet piss drunk and completely out of our bloody minds to spill our guts, because I can arrange for that as well."

His accent's so distinctly non-American that I'm tempted to ask where the heck he's from. I don't. I don't want to know where he's from because I know this is Masen, and he loves women, not a woman. "So there was some gut spilling."

"And what makes you think I can't make my own decisions, woman? I would like it very much if you gave me a second to see if I could handle you before you start controlling every bloody thing in your life, including strangers you spill your guts to."

Again with that phrase. "Alright, but on the condition that you tell me what the heck happened that night."

"Alright. Conditions accepted. Shall we?"

I look around. "Where's... uh..."

"Bree? Oh, she's gone home. Did she look twenty to you?"

My face crinkles up. "No! She barely looked legal."

The side of his face blooms into a slight smile. "I'd say we've got one mind, Bella Swan."

I get moving to Angela's and promise to see him at eight sharp. He assures me that if I don't, he'll pound on every door till he gets me to keep my promises.

"And I thought that was a ruse to get away from me."

I look appalled. I hope I do. "I wouldn't lie if I wanted to get out an uncomfortable situation." I pause. "I'd have just left if I didn't have a real ruse, I mean."

"You're a brutal creature for a Swan."

I walk away smiling. I hadn't known he was demanding, but he is. Did he demand that I spill all my secrets that night? Was that what we'd done that night, talk about things he demanded to know, listen to things I didn't admit to myself?

I hoped not. When Angela answers the door, I immediately welcome the warmth, and sincerely hope to God that isn't the case.

...

As promised, I land on the sidewalk at seven fifty. Masen isn't there for another minute, but he looks like he's been wandering about aimlessly so I wonder where he lives, and I don't ask.

"Do you like French food?"

"Sure. Are you paying?" I ask shamelessly.

"Nope. On a tight budget at the moment."

I laugh. "So am I, and every other member of the student population in D.C."

He shrugs into his jacket then. "I guess we'll have to wing it. You can't starve because there isn't any money to put on the table."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! Do review!<em>


	4. Feminists

_Chapter three: Feminists_  
><em>La Vienna, D.C<em>

I think it was sometime in the first year of college that I was forced into a room full of people I didn't know, and it was made mandatory that we say something about ourselves to random strangers and pretend like we know we're going to end up best friends at the end of the four years. This is the second time I've felt that uncomfortable, and even if I know Masen isn't out to get me or anything, I know that something isn't quite alright.

"Did we kiss or something? Because that would make sense, I did that with Jake."

Masen looks at me from the waiter, who also looks at me, and both of them proceed to blink.

Leaning back, I hide my flushed face behind the menu, muttering "Never mind."

When the waiter leaves, Masen doesn't say anything for what feels like forever. All this white noise, all these people talking, and all this shared silence to make it worse. Why did I let myself do this? This is worse than when Renee told me she had sex before she hit puberty, and that was the most humiliating moment of my life because I haven't even had sex yet.

"Alice was telling me you like reading."

I don't nod. I don't allow body language to fail me and make it look like I'm enjoying this. "I like some classics," and I hate unfamiliar situations that could possibly blow up in my face.

"Hmm. You seem like a _Wuthering Heights_ type of girl."

I blink. "I might be."

He leans in, sparks of gold dancing in his surprisingly green, lush eyes. "You look nervous."

Now, I gulp. "That's because I am."

This surprises him. "Why? We've met before. And as you pointed out clearly, this is not a date. There's no one to impress. It's just me. You know me."

It's all so logical when Masen talks, that I find myself being compelled to follow his every word. "I know some dude who drinks in bars and chats up unsuspecting girls, and right now I'm not sure if that's even you."

He laughs, to my shock. And doesn't bother with stopping, even when the waiter leaves two glasses of what must be red wine on our table. I don't know which year it is, or what kind. I'm kind of glad there's wine, even if it's blasphemously red. "First of all," he's still laughing, the brute. "I did not 'chat you up.' You very kindly spoke to yourself and forgot that other people were around."

Did I?

"Second of all," he puts up a second finger, and I didn't realize when he'd put a first one up. "I do not go to bars and drink and chat up girls. What an appalling impression of me."

Crossing my elbows across my chest, I admire the green of the blouse I'm wearing, wondering if it looks as good in a stranger's eyes. I adore the colour green, and blue. Only now as I sit here and think about inane things, I think of the colour in Masen's eyes and admire it, quietly, in the privacy of my mind, for the first time. I clear my throat. "You do have three different girls on your arms every time I happen to see you."

"Well," he moves to pick up his glass but changes his mind last minute and instead gulps down his water. "I don't normally do long term. I had one serious girlfriend, and she pretty much sucked out the serious and commitment out of me when she left."

I don't comment. If I did, it would sound very sarcastic, because he makes it sound like some big secret he's revealing.

"That doesn't mean I'm not a feminist." He says in all seriousness. "I respect women, and free will."

He sounds so sure of himself that I almost think not to protest, before a waitress moseys along to our table and squeals in delight. "Masen!"

I only smile as he smiles a forced one. "Kate. How are you?"

"Great, dear, I didn't think I'd ever see you in here again," she eyes me for a small second before continuing. "Not without Tanya."

"We broke up."

"Oh," she fakes a pout, trying to look sad but looking anything but. Is this how women are, fake, biting and completely uncaring of other women? No wonder we need feminists. "That's too bad. What happened?"

He only shrugs and gestures to me. "I'm out with a friend, as you can see. Maybe we'll catch up later?"

Kate's smile is so wide, her eyes are practically nonexistent. "Sure, Masen. You know where to find me."

I'm looking at a distant wall as he picks up his glass by the stem. "That... is Tanya's cousin."

I feel as if someone's washed me down with water. Cousin? "Oh. I thought..."

"Well, you aren't wrong to think it. We dated before Tanya came into town. For a week or two." He shrugs again.

I almost feel stupid for doubting my instincts. "Of course. Geez, you'd think there weren't that many women to go around."

"Apparently, there are. Are you seeing someone?"

I narrow my eyes. "No."

"Well, Jasper was quite taken with you."

I groan quietly. "What is it with all these old men being taken with me?"

"For one, he's not that old, he's twenty seven. You're twenty. You were born in the same decade." He looks angry but there's a slight smile dying to break out, like he knew I'd say this. "For another, are you that averse to dating a man rather than a boy, because every guy your age is _man_ enough to give you exactly what you need?"

What did I need from a man? I asked him that question, simply wondering aloud.

"Friendship, just someone to pass the time with. Have sex." His eyes glisten with something unsaid. "Company, basically."

He wasn't wrong about that last part. "I just don't trust men in general, especially older ones."

A knowing look passes over him but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he tells me about Alice and I listen, about her plans to work in New York and the like, before we realize we don't know anything about each other. "Where're you from?"

"Forks, it's a little town down on the coast. What about you?" I know how to do this, be polite, do polite banter, but it isn't my cup of soup. "Can I have the duck?" I add in, hoping to end this night quickly.

"No rush, Bella. I won't bite."

When I don't reply, he answers. "I'm from Chicago, but Carlisle lives in Seattle and Esme, actually, moved to Forks last year." He's smiling. "Maybe we'll run into each other next year."

"Or maybe you can just tell me and plan it instead of making it this big adventure."

"Dislike surprises?"

"Extremely. I hate them."

"_Let's_ _live suddenly _

_without thinking_."

I blink. "What?"

"Poetry. By Cummings."

"Oh." I drink some of my wine to calm myself down. "Every time you throw your poetry at me, I'm lost for words."

He just smiles.

"What do you do?"

"I research poetry at AU. I heard you're an engineer. Didn't think that was your thing, to be honest."

"I didn't realize my face had a thing attached to it."

"Well," he leans in, like he's revealing some more secrets. "you look like a secret romantic, hence why you read your books in bed and hope someday it'll all come true."

I wonder at what length they've discussed me, Jasper and Masen, and it doesn't sit well. Masen then calls the waiter and orders for two portions of the duck. When he's gone, I ask, "How do you know all my dreams haven't come true?"

His eyes meet mine then, and his smile falls into invisible lines, because he's smiling, but he isn't, and his words are kind, and gentle, but they aren't. "The same way I know mine haven't."

I don't think long to reply. I just do. "So you're a posing romantic, when secretly you're a realist, too."

"And you're a posing realist, when secretly you just want someone to take you from this world and never bring you back." Masen smiles at the waiter as he brings our food. We don't talk about much else, not with this intensity anyway, and the rest of the night blurs. When Masen insists we dance, I insist we don't so he insists back that he finds me a cab. It's only before we leave that I notice the golden of the restaurant, the beautiful glass table that we sat on and the comfortable looking chairs that were only comfortable to look at, honestly.

On the streets, with nothing but our footsteps for company, he lights a cigarette. He doesn't smell like them, though. He doesn't smell like anything. His form is taller today somehow, and his steps aren't leisurely. They are assured and hurried, and I find it hard to keep up, wondering why I never joined yoga when Jess insisted I should. "You don't stay on campus?"

"Not anymore." I tell him, just as we reach the corner and I'm calling the first cab I see. "Well, thanks for tonight."

"I feel the need to say Merry Christmas." Masen tells me with a grin.

I realize I felt the same thing. "It'll probably pass, now that we've hung out on the third of February, nothing to do with Christmas."

He walks away after that, and I let myself watch him go, only for a few seconds. Then, I get into the cab, thinking about how much we talked, and how none of it revealed the secret that was the night of Christmas Eve 2004, and how Masen had slyly paid the bill without my notice.

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><p>Thought I'd just put this up, too. Thanks for reading! You know what to do.<p> 


	5. Larry's

_note_: I love new readers! Thanks to pizpireta0813 for favouriting, following and reviewing! Thanks to LaurelSL for favouriting and msr108 for following! you guys keep a writer going.

Moving along.

**d**isclaimer: not mine

* * *

><p><em>Chapter four: Larry's<em>

_February 2006_

Occasionally I end up hanging out with Angela and her boyfriend, Tyler. They're... sweet. Too sweet. Sometimes I wonder how two people can be so perfect for each other, and if all that's just some big fairytale, but these two shove the faith back in that system quite almost immediately. They're the real thing, and some days I have faith that I'll find someone quite as perfect, too.

They don't talk about anything relevant. We don't really like talking about school, and while the first year was gruelling, the second year has been something else. Getting into our specializations was supposed to be the fun part, and it was, for the most part. Professors, on the other hand, can be quite... whatever their part of society is seen to be like.

And I don't really mind how it's going, because I feel bland. Not some big bowl of ice cream, just a nice bowl of stew. Bland, but healthy. I eat well, ever since I managed to fit a stove into my apartment, and while I haven't been great company to Jess, Angela's been a great friend. A real one, too. We hang out, do our homework and we've even planned to start another mini project together, one that could become a prototype for our final one. Doing a full blown project fourth year is pressure enough, so I guess I love how organized she is, and how that helps me gain some familiarity on the subject.

Once, I think I saw Alice in Larry's, but I miss her by seconds and I never see her around campus. The fourth year's hang out by the second block and we're all the way out on the sixth. It's a whole other world, and I guess the renovation work happening in the second block makes it harder for us to all be in one building. Bad timing, I guess, but it felt like the universe was keeping me from meeting Alice again.

I don't think about it too much, but it's at the back of my mind. I'm doing homework, eating a salad for dinner, wishing the dressing wasn't as dry but loving the chicken nonetheless. A soothing blues song playing in the background and it isn't a bad day. It doesn't end badly, anyway. Popping into bed, I convince myself that the ends of the days matter so much more than people realize.

June 2006

Summer break didn't start out spectacular in the least. Angela and I decided to do our project on circuit switchboards and I had to find a hardware store that had everything we needed, which was like a block or two from Larry's. She decides to go home, which is fine, so the small talk is limited to my apartment building.

"Call me if you need something."

"I will. Stay with your phone."

She nods and heads off, and the weather is plenty. It's this full feeling when you walk out into a pink twilight, with a blatant rawness left to the night. My jeans feel out of place and I decide to wear a skirt tomorrow. Ninety days all to myself, and I decide to get a job somewhere, somewhere easy.

Walking past Larry's, I knew what I needed to do.

...

"So that's five an hour, and you do the toilets, too."

I cringe, but nod. "Sounds decent."

"Are you any good with drinks?"

"No. I've never mixed one in my life."

"Good with people?"

I shake my head. Her red hair scared the words of me, I suppose.

"All right, then. Kitchen and washroom help it is."

It doesn't sound like a pretty job, but it'll give me something to do, and money to keep the apartment running better than it is. Maybe I'll even manage to put some money away for a laptop. This could mean some red meat, and some cheese. Maybe even red wine. And I think of Masen and that evening we spent together.

"What's your name?"

"Bella."

"Well, Bella. Welcome to the staff that makes Larry's. This is your apron," she shoves a cloth in my hands. "We wear black, as you know, and try keeping your paws off the customers."

I narrow my eyes. "Okay."

She doesn't tell me her name, but I know it is Victoria. People she likes (and I know who those people are already, and his name is Riley) call her Vicky. I think I'd just call her red haired boss lady for the rest of my life, if such a thing was even possible. But when I end up turning into work the next evening and calling her Victoria to confirm a billing, she acts like that's fine. So it is.

And she doesn't usually call me anything. I'm just the chick who waits on tables and cleans up the puke in the bathroom.

"Usually I don't recommend the food in a pub, because, you know? But you should come here." I tell Tyler so he could tell Ange. "Come to Larry's. They actually have decent food."

"Can I trust you?"

Looking into the pasta James' whipped up so I wouldn't starve, I nod. "Great food. Come tonight."

"Great. What time are you off?"

"Eleven. See you guys then."

...

For the first month we just pussyfoot around each other, but it's quite clear Veronica isn't the type to have superficial relationships. She's quite feisty, and fiery, and there's no way you avoid confrontation with her. It's so unlike what I'm used to, and what I like, for that matter, but it's refreshing. I don't mind it.

"I swear I didn't bill it wrong. This goes out for table five."

"Well if table five were six cosmos and one beef steak, I'd believe you. But there's a woman as old as a grandma sitting out there sipping her white wine spritzer, looking like she's never heard of a cosmo in her life."

"I..." I don't know what to say. I got my period, I've been feeling off all morning. What a screw up. "I'm sorry Victoria."

"You will be when you don't get half your pay this week."

And rest assured, that was the last time I screwed up, and Victoria proved to be all words and bark. She cut ten percent and paid me the rest. When I got the money I was too scared to count it, so when I walked into my apartment and found more than what I expected, Larry's wasn't looking too bad, and neither was Victoria.

Though I had no idea who owned Larry's, because I still didn't know what Victoria's position there was. And I never dared to ask.

...

Larry's has spectacularly clean bathrooms, as compared to the ones I imagined, and while Riley is in charge of the men's, the day he doesn't turn up I have to wait quietly till it's empty and make sure there's no screw ups in there. The first time I was in there I thought for sure I'd throw up. It wasn't so bad. It wasn't half bad, but I was just glad to be a woman, period.

The second time was humiliating, because someone was peeing into the urinal and that just... God save me.

And the third time was when I was scrubbing the counter of the puke of a possibly seventy year old who got drunk for the first time in his life and decided to leave his dinner on it. It was past ten, and I just wanted to pass out somewhere. On the street, in Larry's, in Victoria's lap, I wasn't picky.

"Are girls allowed in here?"

I look up in the mirror, and then turn. "Masen. Hi."

"Hi."

It's awkward. God. So, I add in another, "Hi."

He laughs and moves forward. "You work here?"

Shrugging, I scrub at the counter and throw in a towel to wipe it. "I was free for the summer. I thought, why not."

He doesn't say anything, just hums, and decides to pee in the stall. He doesn't say much but he pees real quiet, and that makes me laugh.

"What's so funny?"

I laugh a little more. "Your pee makes no sound."

Silence. "I'm not peeing."

And I laugh harder because what else can you do. Wiping quick, I get out of the bathroom so I can ask Victoria for the rest of the night off. When I reach the counter I see her yelling at someone at the bar and know this isn't the night to ask for the night off so I get back to waiting on tables. James is furiously whipping up stuff in the kitchen, and that's when I spot Masen at the bar.

"I was looking for Bella?"

"Bella? What'd you want her for, Mase?"

Oh, dear. Not her, too! Victoria. I mean. It's her! She's got... like, red hair! Like. I don't even. I can't. I force myself to not listen to the rest of the conversation, so I turn around with my dirty dishes and pretend he hasn't been talking to my boss about me and run into Riley.

"Where were you?"

Sniffling, he sighs. "Sick as germs, man. What's going on?"

I glare at him and stalk off. "You owe me."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! Leave a review!<em>


	6. Mine to forget

_Chapter five: Mine to forget_

My shift ends sharp at eleven twenty and I leave before anybody can stop me, before Victoria wants me to close the pub or worse, wants to talk about Masen. She may be all that but she's Victoria. She's not my sister, and my own mother knows better than to lecture me.

"Bella!"

I know that's Masen, but I just want to be home right now.

"Bella! Hey!"

Is he running again? I turn around to find him walking toward me swiftly, but with a smile. And no girl in tow, this time. I don't comment on it. "Hi. Again."

"Hello. Would you like a drink?"

I almost groan but I manage to smile. "I just want to go home and sleep, to be honest."

"Alright." He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. "Let me walk you."

I'd protest, but that's proven to be a waste of time in the past. "Sure."

We start off quietly, before I think of all the things I want to be doing instead of slow-walking back to my apartment. "You don't live on campus anymore?"

I look at him. "Like, for a year almost. I think I told you that."

He looks thoughtful. "Oh yes. You never showed me where, though. Possibly how I forgot."

"Hmm."

"So, how goes the study to engineer America's next big thing?"

"Good. How's... your poetry?"

"Cummings is boring me, but he does tend to be slightly unpredictable." He turns to look at me then. "I love that in a person."

I mull over that. "I'm not unpredictable. That feels like a boring thing."

"Predictability is for those who seek it."

"Is that poetry?"

He looks strangely at me. "No."

I laugh at his response, realizing then that apart from Angela, and Tyler, I hadn't hung out with anyone. Jess went home for the three months and... That's it. "How come you're here? Didn't go home?"

"Oh I did. Visited my parents in their separate homes." He looks stoic. "Wasn't too bad, but I only had a week off. And PhD work is pretty much forever. No breaks for me."

I nod, but I don't get it. Why would anyone research poetry? I asked him as much, not being able to kick in the filters just yet.

"Oh, well, there's the entire enigma of it. What is the poem saying? What is the poet trying to say? Who knows what poets are talking about, really, and what age they're talking with respect to? The renaissance, the classical, there's so much to know—"

I interrupt. "Whoa. A whole world I know nothing about."

"I don't think anybody really knows anything about the world, wholly or not. Parts of it might make sense, and then it doesn't fit together with another part, and then," he looks to me. "Well, that's that."

"And poetry makes the world sensible?"

"In its nonsensical manner, yes. Poets don't lie. They just tell their own truth, which makes them liars in the eyes of a philosopher." He doesn't look at me then. "When you think about it, everybody lies by that logic."

I don't agree, and feel slightly glad that my apartment's just seconds away. "Well," I point to the building. "This is me."

He looks up. "Looks charming. Which floor?"

"Fourth. Uh, I cook." I don't know why I do this. There weren't any reasons. Well, I know exactly why, especially since less than half my left hand can count the number of reasons. "Come by. Sometime. You know?"

He smiles. "I think I will. Thank you, Bella Swan. I look forward to coming by. Sometime."

September 2006

Masen and I hung out practically every time he came to Larry's, which became more and more frequent as the days passed. It was nice, to be honest, and I knew he was nice, too. And polite and kind. Everything a girl wants in a man.

But I couldn't summon up the need to want to sleep with him, because as much as he was nice, he was also mysterious, and I hated that.

"Why won't you tell me?"

He pestered me about Jake, and our sex life, or lack thereof, and I just can't figure out for the life of me why I told him that. "Because you're a liar. You were supposed to tell me what happened that night."

"I did. Nothing happened that night."

"I didn't sleep with Jake because I accidentally dated him and it ruined everything." I cut the carrots methodically. "We kissed, I thought we should date, and when we realized dating was weird, being friends became a non-option for us."

He follows my hands with his eyes. "You could've slept with him and decided that."

"Well for some of us, sex is still a sacred thing." I look at him pointedly.

"Hey, it's not my fault you don't know how to have sex without keeping yourself in check. Sex isn't emotions, and it's fucking fantastic."

"I'm sure it is. Pass me the pan."

We cooked dinner and he spoke about Tanya at length. I loved being in the know, especially since I'd met her. We spoke about positions, orgasms and how she screamed like a porn star, and how six out of ten girls do. Scream like porn stars, because they think that's what a man wants. I don't know how we landed on her but one thing was for sure.

"I am never dating you." I laughed as I drank my wine. "God, you're such a gossip!"

His eyes freeze solid with shock. "What?"

"You've practically told me every position you did it with her. I can't even stand people talking about how I look!"

"Oh yes. God forbid everything wasn't under your control twenty four hours a day."

I laugh some more, but Masen doesn't laugh. He just puts his bowl on the floor and looks at me in all seriousness. "Why wouldn't you date me?"

I stop laughing, but my voice sounds like I snorted helium, which I did on my fifth birthday and I tell Masen so.

"Bella! To the point."

"Okay, okay." I feel tipsy, but in a nice way. "Because, you're the kind of guy who makes mistakes and I'm the kind of girl who doesn't forget."

His eyes narrow. "What about forgiveness?"

"Oh, always. Always forgive. But I never forget what you've done." I feel the laughter dying in some corner of the world as the image of Phil touching me, rubbing his hands all over me comes to mind, a dark part of me coming to life as I say the rest. "I can't. I've tried, trust me."

I guess he trusts me, because we don't talk about that again. He picks up his bowl and eats, and doesn't contest about what I've analysed of him, of how brutally I've portrayed him to him.

It's like he was making a mistake just sitting there, and some day I'd end up not forgetting that he did.

...

Occasionally he'd turn up looking beaten to the bush, and he'd just drink himself away without a word between us. I'd come feed him something, if he came home, or to the pub, give him his scotch, or my wine, and he'd down it without a glance in my general direction. I don't mind it, but it worries me a bit, so I keep my distance. We don't talk on those days, because it doesn't look like he wants company. It's like he wants something else, something I have little to no idea how to be.

I guess this was the difference between being company and being a friend.

* * *

><p><em>You know the drill. Thanks for reading! Do review!<em>


	7. Indentations

_Chapter six: Indentations_

One night when James and Riley weren't doing a top notch job at the bar, because there were so many people and two of our bartenders were gone for the holidays, I decide to get in there and try to keep the wolves we knew as customers at bay. Everybody wanted a drink, nobody wanted food, and they wanted it now, and this bar was covered but the one near the kitchen wasn't, and I didn't realize how many people made this look so easy. In the movies, in the bar, here itself, I never thought it was so difficult to say hello and get someone their drink without spilling it over the bar counter. So my eyes nervously look for a face I like among the wolves, and I'm standing here alone, praying they just ask for a beer.

"What would you like?" I ask a girl who reminds me of Alice. She smiles.

"A glass of red wine, please."

Oh. A glass. This was easy. But how much do I pour in? Do they write that kind of thing here? I look to Victoria, pick up a phone and gesture to it. She knows what I don't know.

"You give out five ounces," Victoria tells me. "You're an engineer. Figure it out." And then I don't hear anything.

So I do. The bottle is about ten times that, so I count the gulps I take and pray this isn't too little. Or too much. "Here you go."

"Thanks." She hands me some money, and I decide she has to know how much it is or tonight's just been tough shit. It comes out of my pay whether I like it or not. "Sorry about the delay. It's my first night."

"Don't worry about it. First night's are hard."

The next guy I like in the crowd has a smile that looks like Masen's, and he asks for a beer. And the night kicks off, just like that, with my first night being bartender turning out to be the hardest thing I've ever done yet.

...

I don't see Masen for almost a week, but I'm not really thinking about him. Victoria tells me I'll go back to the toilets if I ever break a bottle, or a glass, even, and when I break a fingernail and it's possibly in someone's food, I hate myself forever. Well, till the night passes and I'm on my way home thinking about Angela and the project.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around. Come by Larry's tomorrow afternoon?"

Angela laughs, to my surprise, and forgives me that quickly. "Sure, Bella. I'll bring Cho."

The three of us sit in the corner booth and order fries and burgers, and James serves us.

"It's so weird sitting down instead of..." I look around at the empty bar. "I didn't realize how much this place has changed since I came."

"Or maybe you changed." Angela says gently. "I have the circuit in my bag, but we'll need a plug point so I can show you what's wrong."

She hadn't soldered in a transistor right, and we manage to get by with the noise I make with the gun and evade Victoria, too, within minutes. When we're out, the circuit's working and our job is done. We drink beers and it's on me, because we could've been done years ago if I took time out and got it done instead of running around in Larry's trying to make sure Masen isn't killing himself with alcohol.

Speaking of whom, I realize I have been multi-managing, and now, I have no idea how long it's been since I've seen Masen. Ten days? Maybe twelve. I shrug and let it go. I drink another beer and try harder to let it go.

...

"Nice skirt."

It was a nice skirt, and I knew it was, because it was short, and my legs weren't all too bad in pantyhose. And it was black, so it would keep Victoria at bay. Standing behind the bar now, I asked if he'd like a menu.

"If I flirt with you now, especially since you look so hot in that skirt," he doesn't put it any less crudely. "Would you make out with me?"

I don't turn around. "Are you drunk?"

"You're evading the question."

"You just might be an alcoholic." I inform him without a doubt.

He observes me, and deserts my last comment without a comeback. "When did you get posted to bartender?"

"A month ago," when you were drowning in that bottle of Jack.

He doesn't reply, but I head on to his usual and pass it to him, moving on to another customer.

"Nope, not drunk." A long pause before his voice slurs, "A little stoned, though."

It doesn't scare me immediately, because I've never been around a stoner, no one other than Jake. And Jake was my best bud. Was. There was a reason we weren't friends anymore, and, well, the stoning had nothing to do with that. "Why are you high?"

"Needed a kick to write this report. On how far I was from revealing Cummings to the world." He slams a wrist on the bar. "As it turns out, I'm not quite there yet."

"Oh."

"I may not be getting my PhD."

This sounds like something... I do not know how to handle. "I'm sorry, Masen."

Victoria eyes me from a table across and pulls me over to handle someone. "I'll be right back. Ten. Fifteen, tops. Don't go anywhere."

"Where would I go?"

I handle the customer, give him his sandwich, serve him his Bailey's and do everything that needed doing within the fifteen minutes I promised I wouldn't spill over. When I get back to the bar, though, Masen's gone, and I wonder how he eased out of the pub without my notice.

Then I see Victoria at the end of the bar with Riley.

"Where is he?"

Riley looks at me in disbelief before Victoria even bothers to answer. "Who?"

I look at her squarely. "What're you doing?"

Victoria shoos Riley away before answering bluntly. "Masen knows better than to mess with undergrads."

Enough was enough. "Can't you let me decide what he can or cannot mess with, even if there isn't any 'messing' involved?"

She doesn't look at me as she crosses over to the cash counter. Customers watch but no one interferes, and no one insists that we're keeping them from their heavy schedule of getting drunk and drunker.

"Give me his address."

"Bella... you're being fucking dumb. He's an asshole, okay? He doesn't care about anyone."

I wanted to roll my eyes but I was feeling the anger up to my eyebrows. "You don't know that, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't care. So give me his address."

She doesn't look at me even then. "How do you know I have it?"

"If you didn't, you wouldn't be doing this."

So she gives me the address and I leave angrily.

"Seven o' clock tomorrow."

I'd have shown her the finger if I wasn't such a wuss.

...

Masen lived near campus, which was near his campus. Huh. So much to know about one person, and it took so long. His apartment building was very nice to look at. Shiny, like a diamond or something. Well, he was loaded. Explained how he had the time to take girls to restaurants like La Vienna.

I sigh, slump my shoulders and hang around his lobby before deciding to talk to the watchman. A nice old fellow, he doesn't stop me from going straight up and making sure Masen's okay.

Which he is, because he opens the door in his shorts, his toothbrush in his mouth with only a second's surprise on his face.

"Get in."

It isn't a command, but he looks okay, so I almost chicken out before he forces me in by the hand. "Ow,"

"Sorry. What're you doing here?"

My skirt suddenly feels very short. "Uh, you... your thing. You know?" Adult things I have no idea of, those things, the things that are falling apart and making your life fall on you? Those things? I keep my mouth closed after that, not sure what to say. "I didn't know you smoked up."

"Everybody in humanities smokes up."

"Oh."

"You don't know anything, do you?"

I shrug. "I guess I'm sheltered."

"Well," he doesn't look at me. "Yeah."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No," I enter his bathroom. "What did you want to say?"

"I don't know, Bella. It seems like you pretty much shelter yourself. I mean," he looks at me in the mirror. "You don't go out. You don't meet people. You have no bloody friends."

I would've pointed at him with a gun, and then proceeded to shoot him, so I don't open my mouth. "I think I should go."

"And you never fucking just say it." He turns around, looking livid and wild, very unlike the man who has never lost control. I mean, sure, he drinks himself to oblivion and makes a pass or two, but all that doesn't amount to anything uncontrolled. This... I've never seen anyone like this. "The whole world will come crashing down on you and you won't want to talk about it. You'll just over-think everything. Do your own analyses and no one else will ever know! You just... how you handle things..."

"And the way you handle things makes for a pristine example. I'll try to follow your suit, but you'll forgive me if I fall short." I turn abruptly, and my body is protesting instantly at the act. "I'm gonna go."

"Wait, Bella,"

"Masen," he's got a strong grip, that brute. "Let me go."

He lets me go but I don't look at him. "Look," he doesn't sound too sober anymore. He had me convinced otherwise. "I'm sorry. It's just been a bad day."

"Apology accepted. Can I please see you another time?"

He walks me to the door, a short walk it turns out to be, and holds my shoulders for a second. I don't turn around. I feel like crying, and I can't risk that now or I'll be here forever. "Is this one of those things you say you're forgiving but you'll never forget?"

I should lie, but he's high enough to forget. Everybody deserves to forget. "I guess so."

His fingers are burned into my top, into my skin, and I cry a little on my way home. I cry a lot at home, wondering why I can't make friends, why life sucks so badly, and why Masen has to be such a hard ass over all that sap.

* * *

><p><em>Note: Lots of thank yous to go around. You guys are absolutely brilliant, and I am so glad for the type of readers and their overwhelming support. I can't thank you all enough. I used to put up public thank yous but last night I got a whopping 50 reviewersfavouriters/followers for this story and my own account. For anyone interested, I write Romance/Fantasy on Wattpad. I'll put up a link, but my penname is DawnabcBatonbonker and I think you guys are the best kind of people I've met. Writing is the loneliest job, but it's the only way to live. Thank you for putting life into that._

_And thank you for reading and reviewing. Thank you!_


	8. Mark

_Chapter seven  
>Mark<em>

_September 2006_

During class hours I left myself at the mercy of the professors. I wasn't here to do the hardest course in the entirety of the nation just because. This was my dream, my passion, and I was already frizzing out. Halfway into the course I realized my energy wasn't anything near what it was when I started and that was freaking me out.

Was it because I was trying to be someone I'm not? I know people isn't my biggest forte, hold a gun to my head and I'll be dead within seconds if friends was the secret to life and someone very determined was looking for it, because I don't know what to tell this masked, unknown, gunman, because I have no secret to life. I'm literally just turning the wheel anyway that feels good, praying that somehow I'll be able to get past life and make it to whatever it is that comes next. I don't know what to do, and I hate it. I hate not knowing, and I hate how much time I spend on wondering about it. Wondering about Angela, Jess, Masen, Renee... I wonder about Renee and force myself to stop until I forget what she looks like completely.

Everything was freaking me out. Angela and her boyfriend and my lack of one, Jessica and her slut passé and my lack of interest to be a part of it... maybe Masen was right, maybe I literally went out of my way to be away from people if I could help it. But today felt different, and I was still angry at Masen, so it was actually different. I didn't ever really find the need to go out and talk to people but I felt like I should. I don't know. It's just another day. It doesn't matter. What does it matter?

So when I got back after meeting at Angela's and working the night at the bar, the day having been the longest one of my life, I called home.

"Hi Bells," Charlie's voice was soothing to hear. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks, Dad. Is Mom around?"

"She's at a meeting for the PTA. She's volunteering at the school for an upcoming dance."

I wanted to ask if he believed that but I didn't. Instead, I nodded into the phone, got my dad to say a little more and hung up, crying very quietly, saying very little. Crying some more, I knew my problems with Masen wasn't worth this. I didn't want to be alone, not tonight, too. And I didn't want to be with Angela and her perfect life, or Jess and her completely screwed up one.

So I went back to the bar a little close to twelve searching for Masen, because somehow I knew that my twenty-first birthday was meant to be spent with him drinking and spilling my guts. He wasn't there, and not to my surprise. So I went over to his place and banged on his apartment till it was obvious he wasn't there.

Alone, and very lonely, I felt the need to communicate to him somehow, I tried a long shot.

"Could you help me out and give this to Masen Cullen?"

The watchman eyed me cautiously. "You an ex?"

I shook my head. "I'm a friend."

"He's not here on Thursdays. He's got classes with old people at this hour."

It was Tuesday, but that didn't matter. "Could you give this to him?"

I don't know what I wrote on the note, but it was the worst day of my life just flying me by, making everything bad a lot worse. I think I said I was sorry, but I didn't even do anything wrong. Me and my need to keep everybody happy.

I went home with a bottle of scotch from Riley and lay on my couch looking at the stars I hung up, wondering why I was feeling so lonely.

And praying this day would get over faster, hoping for the seconds to fly.

The buzzer woke me. I walked to the door gingerly and pushed a button, hoping it was the right one. "Hmm?" I hope I didn't sound like Godzilla.

"You sound terrible."

I groan, and let him in.

"You're up early." I comment, noting the time, and my raging headache.

"Poetry doesn't make for comfortable sleep. But I didn't get to bed just yet. I take a night class. Just got in."

I shuffle into a blanket, covering up my cold feet and hands. "I'm not sure why you came. I just wanted to tell you what I did." I don't know how I'm so coherent. I'm shocked somewhere under the hangover slash drunkenness. "Which was a lie. I don't mean it."

He shrugged off his coat and landed on a chair at the dining table. "I guess I don't forgive you, then."

"I don't know how to tell you this, and it's not that I don't trust you, but it's been a shit couple of years."

He nods, as if he completely appreciates what I say.

"And I don't know," I look away, my bare toes peeking out from under my pyjamas. "I guess it would've been nice to have a friend."

"Why don't you have one? Or, I don't know, twenty of them?"

"Because I've been burned, and once is all it generally takes for me. Besides, people generally get a good look at me and realize there's easier things to deal with out there somewhere."

He just sat there, as if he was noticing things about me, my hair, my cheeks, and my sullen expression as I fell into the couch as I try to get some sleep again. I had classes in the morning, way too early as usual, and I didn't think I had the choice to ditch just because I got drunk on scotch, which I hate, and then slept in hungover, very unlike my usually efficient-and-on-top-of-everything self.

"Well, happy birthday."

My eyes refuse to open, and somehow I think I'm still awake, so I speak with them closed. "How'd you know?"

He shuffles on his feet, approaching me, and one slender, smooth finger brushed my face, my cheeks. "Riley told Victoria you'd been drinking, and she told me when I stopped by tonight to see if you'd taken a late shift.

"Besides. I knew you were a Virgo."

I don't have the strength to smile, but my lips manage to quirk upwards anyway. "How?"

He smiles. "I've known another one quite closely, and let's just say they're very good with being practically brutal."

"I'm brutal?"

Another brush, this time two fingers happen on my nose, then my lips. "Every day I've known you."

_November 2006_

Masen dropped by without asking. It was tedious, and I didn't forget what he did that night, no matter how good his eyes looked, and how good it felt to be with someone and just... not alone. Sometimes I buzzed him in, other times I pretended I wasn't there, and sometimes that makes me wonder how well he knows me. It was strange that he should even try with me, but after a point I stopped questioning it. He just wanted to be a friend, which was okay. There wasn't an ulterior motive, and not everyone had one of those. No need to be super paranoid, not everyone was out to get me.

"What movies do you like?"

"I don't quite like TV." I told him. "Hence why that space there... is empty."

He looked at the space in shock, because I think it took us a whole month to run out of things to say, and that was the only reason he had the time to even observe that empty space. "What do you do in your spare time?" He sounded like Renee trying to convince me to buy a TV.

"Lots to read, lots to do, lots to cover. My mini project is due next month for a first inspection and I don't have everything together yet. Cho is turning out to be more and more useless, for an Asian, and Angela, God bless her soul, has nothing on how get things done on time, even if she does have all the plans."

He chuckled, but said nothing. He sipped his beer, and I let loose. I gave in to wanting to feel this way around someone, just... comfortable. Not... living life on the edge, as if I'd lose everybody I ever loved because someone did something I couldn't overlook. When I sank into the couch next to him my hair fell loose from the scrunchie and probably irritated Masen, but it was on his shoulder and that didn't change for the next one hour as I read and he just... sipped his beer.

Men.

He yawned and stood. "I'll make us dinner."

I look at the time on my clock. "So you're staying longer?"

"I'd stay all night," his eyes sparkled all too mischievously. "but I've got work to get to."

My eyes roll softly because now, I don't even pay attention to Masen flirting. It's like second nature to him, to come onto everything that makes him talk. At the back of my mind it worries me that I'm probably leading him on, but I don't address it. Not right then. "Please don't fake flirt with me."

"First off, there's no such thing as fake flirting. It's either flirting or it isn't.

"Secondly, I flirt with pretty girls, sue me." He didn't turn around as I approached him, facing my kitchen cabinets and observing the interiors with great interest. "Now, what do you have in here?"

I was pretty. I knew I was. No need to get all flushed because Masen seemed to know it, too. "Pasta's easy."

"But chicken is more fun."

"So is meatloaf."

Masen smiled. "Pasta it is."

* * *

><p><em>Note: This chapter is all SunFlowerFran's. If it weren't for her, I'd be holiday-blueing myself to Uranus. <em>


	9. Serenaded Swans

_Chapter eight  
>Serenaded Swans<em>

_December 2006_

Beginning of December I got together with James and Riley and got the decorations up. Sometime near one in the morning Masen dropped by and helped me finish the last of it while Victoria left both of us to it.

"You're not hired help."

"I highly doubt that matters. Victoria was always a stingy manager."

Oh. "So she's not the owner?"

"Vick? No!" Masen laughs as he hands me some tape and some more decoration. I think I might fall off of the ladder but I hold my own. "Aro's the owner, though I've never seen him since the beginning."

"Since this place opened?"

"Since this place became Larry's. It used to be a supermarket before."

I'm not surprised, but there's not much else to say, and a lot more decoration to put up so I call it a night. "I've got an early class."

Masen doesn't argue and helps me down. His hands are warm against my thighs, I know this even through all these layers, and then his hands are on my bare neck, but it doesn't shock me until his eyes hold me against his gaze. This wasn't something we had indulged in before, and I knew what it was. I knew what this warmth spreading through me meant. I'd felt it before. It wasn't like this, though, and I knew how much trouble I was walking into even before he probably thought about leaning in.

I step away, and we pretend it didn't happen. I thank James and Riley and notice the air is tense as I pack up to go. As I walk out, I get ambushed by Victoria, but Masen's right behind me, so I presume she wouldn't try anymore of her jealous stunts to keep me from doing what I want.

Her eyes are the colour of her hair, again, so it dawns on me that I made a false assumption. "I thought there wasn't anything messy going on." Her voice is bitter, almost pouting.

I don't answer, but I think she wasn't asking a question. Masen replies, "What're you on about?"

"You and Bella."

Masen looks as if she's just realizing that he was an alien. "Okay. So?"

She doesn't reply, and huffs off before I can ask her, or him, what the heck they were doing, pretending I wasn't right there between them. "Do you generally insinuate you're banging your friends?"

"Banging." Masen doesn't take me seriously. "That's a first."

"I'm asking you something."

He lights a cigarette. This time I smell it, and I smell him. All of him. And I know why I never did before. I never stood this close to him before. Before, there was a good three feet between us. Somehow in the expanse of a year, we're barely two inches apart, and it scares the life out of me. "I'm not insinuating anything. It is what it is."

"Well, it sure doesn't feel like I know what exactly 'it' even is." I don't know how we end up outside my building, but there we are, arguing about something that has no name. Not yet, anyway.

"_It_ is that I like you, I enjoy your company and I guess I don't see myself as your friend." I notice how harsh my breath feels, because it's like I was running against the wind, and that's because he isn't breathing deeply. He's unfazed as he continues. "And I think about us, and you and I like how good I feel with you."

"Friends feel that way." My voice shakes at the lie I'm telling him, and myself. "I feel that way about you, too."

He doesn't smile. "Friends don't want to do the things I want to do to you."

For an odd reason I can't quite pinpoint, I think about his fingers on my lips all those nights ago, their callousness against my warmth, and my gloved hand goes to my lips unthinkingly. I bite them, I feel angry, and I'm almost about to cry when I realize I've lost another friend to the same thing.

"I told you about Jake. I told you what happened."

He doesn't move. Compared to me, he looks so calm. If I placed my hand on his heart, would it be still, so unlike my own right now? "I'm not asking you for anything."

"Yes you are!" My voice is raised. I've never really raised my voice at people. I hate confronting them, because I'm never wrong, and they know I'm not. "You don't just—just—_tell_ people these things and expect nothing. And you always want things, you can't just be happy with what we have. Don't you get it; I can't afford to lose you." I sound so desperate, maybe because I'm sick of being picky, and I'd settled for Masen, and I hate that he's settling for me. "You just want me because I said no."

He scoffs. "I'm not a masochist. You've said no a thousand times, Bella."

"So what, then? What makes you still want to tell me this, when you know I'll say no the thousand and first time, too?"

He looks away, finally letting out a ragged breath. It comes out white, as if a ghost, like the snow that's enveloping us. When had it started to snow? Looking up, I feel the tears fall and I know I have to leave this as it is. "I..."

"I didn't want to lie to you. I guess I've always wanted you. I remember seeing you that night and thinking you're the prettiest thing in there. I knew you were underage, and you didn't have to tell me you were a virgin, and I didn't care what the fuck you wanted to talk about because I wanted you for myself. I wanted you as you were, drunk and bloody perfect, telling me the things you wanted me to know." Some cruel, dark part of me loves hearing this. "And I need you so much now that... that it's pathetic, the things I'll bloody do for you, stomp on my own pride for you. Everything we are up until now is how you've wanted it, Bella, and I'm so fucking scared that if I ask you for anything, even a little more, even a kiss, or a hug, even, you'll run for the hills. That's how pathetic I am for you."

Hearing his need for me, because finally, it's all out in the open, and finally, I've got everything I've secretly wanted from him. It's been a year of this dancing around and the snow makes me shiver, but not as much his confession does. Does he want me to kiss him now? Do I want to? Should I care enough to remind him who we are and why we're here in the first place?

I don't. Remind him, talk to him, or tell him things. I reach out and hug him, and he hugs me back. It's the closest I've felt to anyone in years, and I cry just thinking that. It all falls apart and so very heartbreakingly into Masen. "I can't. You know I can't." I'm literally sobbing, and it's the most raw I've felt since I remembered Phil and that night. "I can't screw us up. I've done things, I get too close and then it's all over. It's why I don't have friends."

He hums into my ears and kisses the side of my face, and I'm tingling from the sensation, but I pull away. Wiping my eyes, I back away. "I'll..."

He nods. "I'll see you soon." And then he's gone, too.

...

Sometimes when the weather got cold I wondered why people ventured out at all. For more than one reason, I realized that the state of Washington was the coldest during the winters, and I couldn't really remember what it felt like during spring or summer. The end of the year held me by my toes and washed over me without my permission. It was all going to start again, and how much I hated it.

I knew I ought to go to the pub but I didn't quite feel up to meeting Angela, or even Jess and the others and I definitely didn't know how to handle Masen anymore. One more meeting and we'd almost be a married couple. I didn't like people, and I definitely didn't have to like them, no matter how much they forced themselves into my life. Masen was one such person, and I was feeling dead stubborn to keep him out.

I didn't buy a TV like I promised Renee I would but that didn't mean it mattered what I did. I was supposed to get through a decent first inspection of my switch circuit, and I did. Some things worked out fine, but Masen?

The buzzer sounded just in time, and I knew who it was. I ignored it. Twenty minutes later, it incessantly rang, and I told myself why it was so hard for me to forgive what had happened with Phil. He probably buzzed the apartment we'd been living in too, and my mother let him in. She let him in and she let him hurt me and today, I know that if I let someone who isn't worth my trust in, he could possibly kill me.

Some nights when I tried to sleep I could remember how angry Masen was, and not even with me. I didn't do anything, and it added to the fire that we sorted things out because I apologized over nothing I did wrong.

"I'm sorry, Masen." Here I was, talking into an empty apartment, apologizing again. "Please."

I guess he heard my silent plea, because the buzzing went away. Two hours later I was drunk on a half a bottle of scotch left over from my birthday, only this time I was alone and selfishly miserable, not caring for anybody's issues but my own. I thought about decorations and the lack of decorations in my apartment. I thought of home and how I could never face Renee and Charlie again without ruining their marriage. I thought of Phil, almost all the time, but it evades me that that isn't particularly healthy. I think about how much I hate him that I almost forgive him, but I'm nowhere close to forgetting him, or what happened.

This time, I was actually alone.

"Merry Christmas, Bella Swan. Congratulations," I take another chug of the beer in my hand. "You're successfully and completely alone. And still very much a virgin."

* * *

><p><em>Note: Happy holidays you guys. K<em>i_ck ass on your resolution list, and send me some of them, will you? I'm trying to see what the usual lists look like. _

_And I swear, I've got about 25k words of this bad boy done. Tell me where you want to see this story and I'll tell you if you're right._

_Thanks everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means everything. Until next time, which will be soon!_


	10. Sense

_Chapter nine: Sense_

December 2006

I run into Riley and Victoria in her office doing things I didn't guess they were doing, but that didn't mean I hadn't had an inkling that something was going on there. Other than the fact that she treated all her employees like shit, there was the fact that she treated Riley worse on most days. While I had no problem with their affair, I stood silently as James complained about his cat and his apartment and wondered why I even went up there. Quitting was a non-option. I had money I needed to collect, and whether or not Victoria liked me, she paid me on time, without fail. And reliability was not something I was going to pass up for free. Without another thought I decided that this meant nothing to me, and took it as a sign not to quit Larry's just yet, not to avoid Masen anyway. That would've been a wimpy thing to do, even for me.

Masen didn't turn up until three days later, but I wouldn't lie and say I didn't think about him or miss him. I think it was quite obvious why I was avoiding him, and of course I wanted him in my life, but it didn't seem completely testified until our big showdown.

And I've cut out people before. Jake, my parents, Jess, Ben, Mike... the list is endless. In school I never made friends because I cross them off my list before they even came within a two mile radius. Mike tried to date me then, and I'd almost agreed to go to prom with the rat. Renee doesn't even know what my prom looked like, because I said I'd go and then I didn't. Instead I went to the library and worked on a circuit that could light a bulb with a potato. She was heartbroken because she believes, to this day, that I could've been homecoming queen like she was. Forks is a small town, and everyone knew by the end of high school that I was definitely not a white Swan.

But cutting out Masen feels wrong, like I'm physically hurting myself trying to do it. For some reason, while he seems to be one of the few who can get me talking, he's also the one who can get my blood boiling. And it doesn't feel like a good combination. The factor of how I can be myself around him comes in every time he decides to fight me on my decisions, and that doesn't particularly feel good. So many times he decided he knew better than me and maybe he didn't, but that wasn't the point. I knew it wasn't.

The bar was quite empty that night, and since students would've left for the holidays it made sense that the locals would be our only customers. Victoria avoided me since the day I asked her to back off, not in so many words, and she had. Backed off. We only spoke when we absolutely had to, or when needed to hash it out, I guess. I guess that was a good thing.

"Look who came out of her shell."

I don't look up at him, continue to do the bar listings and nod. I think I heard him coming up, I think I saw him come in. I guess not. "Hi."

"Don't you act like you've done nothing."

"I'm not acting. I'm making a list." I look up at him then. "What's up?"

He doesn't look tired, just... exhausted. "Nothing. This friend of mine decided to ditch me on Christmas. So here I am, trying to understand why she's such a bitch."

My eyes burn. "First of all, no name calling."

"I can't make any promises."

"Second of all, I'm sorry." There, the words slip before I can stop it. I'm not sorry, and I don't intend to be sorry, but the words leave my mouth just as well. "I didn't think it mattered so much to you. I wanted to sleep. I'd had a rough day."

His eyes don't narrow. It scares me, the lack of expression in them. "You don't have classes."

"I had to meet up with my project group."

"Funny," he doesn't look like something is funny. "I met Angela and Tyler here, searching for you. Then they find me looking for you and look at us, best friends because Bella Swan decided she'd rather spend Christmas elsewhere." When I don't respond, he goes on. "I think Jess was here, too, but I can't be sure. That would've been some party you'd have missed."

I don't answer.

"Angela was quite surprised when I suggested you must be tired from working on your project, since you haven't met her all month."

"Alright, Masen."

"Mase," Victoria's voice breaks our argument. "Leave the help alone. We've got work to get done."

He doesn't feel too pleased hearing her voice again, because I've seen happy Masen, and this isn't a happy face. "There's no one at the bar but me."

Victoria wants to argue, but Masen effectively shuts her up by turning his attention back to me, his eyes skimming over my frown lines as he sighs. "I just don't get you. What I would give to be able to read your mind."

"There's nothing up here that you already don't know."

When he doesn't answer, I wipe the counter. Him just sitting there, without a drink, makes me conscious so I offer to get him one. He declines with a small shake.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing."

"You know you're just pestering me."

He keeps his eyes on mine. "I know what I'm doing."

I let one minute pass before I'm saying the words. The bar is quiet, so even my small mumble is heard. "I guess... I'm just... everything you said..."

He doesn't look too taken aback by my lack of intelligence at that moment, and I know he gets it. His beige jacket shrugs off of his shoulders as he wraps it on his legs, as if he's getting ready for the talk we're about to have. "Why?"

"I don't have guys flirting with me, talking to me."

"You don't _give_ anybody the chance to talk to you, let alone flirt to you."

I don't reply. I don't know what to tell him. That I like the solitude, the loneliness. That I'm used to it.

"Besides, I already knew that. I knew... I know that if... I know you're not looking to start anything."

That makes something burn. "How do you know that?"

"You look through me sometimes, Bella. I've been with a few girls in my day, and none of them, not even the ones I didn't flirt with, looked through me. Ever."

I don't look through him, I want to tell him as I face him, his eyes focused on mine, his shirt an old cotton one that's faded from washing too many times, a dark green caressing its cloth as he leans into me_. I_ _don't look through you, I look at you_. "I..." I look away, my nose suddenly itchy, as if it's red, as if I'm about to cry without knowing it, the very sight of him making me feel jarringly weak.

"What does this matter anyway?" he says, his elbows now on the counter. "We're friends, aren't we?"

I nod as I look at them, noticing the pale knuckles, the short trimmed nails, the way they seem longer than my own, resisting the urge to take one finger and wrap it in mine forever. "You are my closest friend."

"Okay, then." He says, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Huffing, he gets up to leave, as if all this could've been avoided. "You owe me."

...

"So," Angela starts as soon as Cho's gone and it's just us at the table. "You and Masen."

"You know I'm not here to date."

"Well, technically," she adjusts the circuit and goes back to tweaking wires as she continues, the lab suddenly very dispassionately quiet, as if any passerby could hear us on the street somewhere far from here. "That's what you've been doing all this while."

"I've never allowed him to call it a date."

"But that's what it was."

I think about it, about every time Masen showed up and ended up wooing me and making me feel pretty and smart and just plain good. I tell Angela how he made me feel. "It feels like I'm falling in love and I'm so scared that this isn't the right thing to do."

"Have you kissed him?"

I shake my head, and my hair touches the sides of my cheeks.

"Have you flirted with him?"

I shrug. "Maybe. I doubt I know what flirting looks like."

"Okay, most important question of the night and then we figure out why this transistor hates us so much." She clears a breath, puts down the tweezers and looks at me. "Has he flirted with you? Told you he likes you?"

I don't nod. I don't nod, shrug, look away from her, and in her dark eyes I see something. "He told you about me."

"A guy like that wears his heart on his sleeve, Bella." Angela sounds calm, looks calm, just as always. "He didn't have to tell anybody anything. He's been bleeding love, and I don't think he makes a habit out of doing this."

"This?"

"Falling in love, chasing the girl, that kind of thing."

I blink, touch something and feel imbalanced. "How do you know that?"

"Because any self respecting guy knows there's no going back after being rejected, and something tells me you've rejected him one time too many."

I breathe once, then twice. "He doesn't love me."

Angela snorts. "He sure as hell wants you."

"I know that."

When we don't talk again I assume my position as transistor girl and wish like hell that I knew some new concoction that could make a transistor behave a switch and an amplifier at once.

"You are seeing me tomorrow night, right? I mean, I'm not spending it alone, and definitely not waiting for Masen to tell me you ditched both of us."

I laugh. "You'll see me."

"Good. And bring Masen."

I don't commit to that. "I'll think about it."

...

When the thirty-first rolls around I decide to just go over to Masen's and see what he wants to do. His family is back at Seattle and Alice moved to New York only recently so it's just him. I feel bad for him. I remember the first time I spent the holidays by myself. While going home I order Chinese, telling myself I'm not going. Then, I remember what I promised Angela and decide to make good on it.

He answers his door with some pants on this time, and I'm grateful. Semi-naked Masen... I don't quite understand him. It's something that parallels the sensation of what he said that afternoon at the bar, of how he feels neglected. I thought it was perfectly clear how I felt, but it wasn't, because I hadn't even addressed it in my own head.

"Let's go out."

I look at him in dismay. "But I bought Chinese."

"Okay. Let's eat and then go out."

"Just us?"

His smile is unbearably bright, like a yellow sun on a misty day, and I think he's enjoying the fact that I've come to him willingly, without his imploring me. I knew I had to give him this much. "Just us, missy. You owe me, remember?"

"I'll owe you while Angela's there. I promised I'd meet her for the countdown."

"Fine, then you've only half paid your debt."

I laugh, call Angela and tell her to meet us at Larry's, since Masen thinks, and confirms, that he's nothing if not a man of tradition. Jess's number is out of reach so I don't call her back, and I don't even know Ben or Mike's numbers. Tyler was out of town.

"You look nice." He tells me. "I really like your shoes."

"Girly shoes? You want to try them?"

He ignores my dry humour. "They look nice." He looks me up and down, as if realizing something only just now. "Why are you dressed up?"

_For you_. "Because it's New Year's Eve. Why aren't you?"

He shrugs. "I don't know if guys dress up."

I grin. "Wear a tie. I've wanted to see you in one, since you'll probably be a professor one day and all that."

He laughs and humours me. We eat dinner without anything to drink, because I know I'll be drinking tonight, and he puts on a black shirt and a thin black tie. He laughs when I tell him I know how to do the knot and we don't talk while I do what I said I could.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks so much for reading! Do review!<em>

_And Happy New Year's Eve Eve. Next chapter up tomorrow! _


	11. Who to kiss

_Note: Remember the M rating? Uh huh._

_Chapter ten: Who to kiss_

Victoria greets us when we enter and I see someone new behind the bar.

"A mutual friend." She follows my eyes. "Clearwater, this is Bella."

"Seth, actually. Hi Bella."

We nod at each other, but something about Seth is immediately contagious.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure, this is Masen," I point to the man in question, his eyes locked on mine as if... I shouldn't be overanalysing such a simple thing. It's an introduction. I don't have to tell Seth what Masen is to me. "where're you from?"

"A spot down a place called Forks."

"Hey." My eyes brighten, and I feel Masen's hand on my thigh as I bustle up at the news. "I'm from Forks!"

"No way. Where do you stay?"

"Down the diner by Mike Newton's house?"

"Oh yeah. Shit." His eyes are so wide; he looks like he's found a toy on Christmas. "What were the chances?"

"What're you doing here?"

"Figuring out what to do, taking a year off. You guys?"

"Masen's researching poetry and I'm an engineer."

"Whoa. Dude, I wish I had that kind of flame to run after. How long you guys been together?"

I retreat then, feeling Masen's hand on my thigh, pushing it off lightly before he places it on the bar, probably sorry for giving off that impression. He's suave, though, and he changes the subject thoroughly. "You aren't by any chance related to the La Push Clearwaters? Because I know Leah Clearwater and..."

"Wait, that's my sister."

Masen's eyes twinkle. "She works for my mother in Forks now."

"For Esme at her boutique?" Seth is practically red with glee, but customers call to him so he promises to be back.

"He is so adorable."

"He is," Masen looks to me. "I just realized that I may know your Jake."

"My Jake?"

"Jacob Black, right? Owns the auto shop down in La Push?"

I groan inwardly. "Yup. How'd you know?"

"I took my business to him recently when Esme's car needed repairs." He looks sceptical as he continues. "Sam handled me, but there was a Jake there at the scene of the crime." He pauses, his eyes are intense, and I realize they've been that way all night, ever since we arrived here. Maybe even since I'd met him all those months ago, and I'm only now noticing. "Seems like a great guy."

I want to nod, but the guilt creeps in so I end up verbally confirming it. "He probably is."

"I'm back!" Seth announces his arrival, and I laugh, and the three of us talk about everything under the sun and Forks's geographical coordinates. He's excited to hear about how much I love the Diner's burgers, because he can't find any here.

"Try James's special lamb burgers. Reminded me so much of Forks when I came back here." Masen tells him. "I had the pleasure of visiting this Diner just this past year."

Seth howls and then moves away and helps Riley make a flamer for this one guy and turns back to tell us, "I can't believe I've run into you guys. Seriously, what're the chances?"

Slim, but here he was. His innocence, those undeniably cute dimples... I think Masen thinks so, too, because we spend the rest of the evening there, and when Angela comes we still don't move from there. And I'm not wasted, just gracefully tipsy, and wasted enough to want to dance when Masen suggests it.

I smile like an idiot. "Wanna dance, Seth?"

Seth doesn't even bother to look up, Angela snorts a laugh and no one else responds when Masen grabs me. "I meant with me and you know it."

Tipsy enough to hold him close and take in the scent I'd recently become accustomed to, because I just couldn't hold him at arm's length anymore. He pulls me flush against him and everything feels like it's going to burn me. It's a beautiful song that's playing but I can't hear it. I refuse to look at him but he kisses my cheek softly, and then I do. Look. And bathe in his scent and let it wash over me.

"_my girl's tall with hard long eyes__  
><em>_as she stands, with her long hard hands keeping__  
><em>_silence on her dress, good for sleeping__  
><em>_is her long hard body filled with surprise.__"_

He doesn't say more, but I heard what he said and it sounds... like poetry, and I know it is, because that's how he sounds reciting poetry. But we barely sway to the sound, and we're barely aware of anything else, and I know it's the same for him, too, because he seems so focused on what we're doing right now that it overwhelms us both. He steps away for a second before pulling me back to him. He's probably been patient, because he seems to be impatient tonight, with his lips on my forehead, my eyebrows, my eyes, my face. It feels so sweet that I feel the whisper of a moan before I hear it. And it escapes me that we were supposed to just be friends for those five minutes or so. So when I remember, I step away shaking my head and Masen's just not taking any of that, not tonight. He holds me by the wrist and stalks away, and I'm following because I'm latched onto him, before I remember to ask something, anything. "Where are you taking me?"

He doesn't answer, and I feel it in his stride, the urgency, and I guess I feel it elsewhere, too. I'm scared he's heard how much I want him, but I know Masen won't hurt me. He takes me to the men's room and I groan. It's not particularly dirty, but that doesn't deter me from protesting being in here again.

"Not here." I whine. "God. What—"

"I'm going to kiss you." He locks the door, looks at me and we don't talk again, because he doesn't ask, as usual. He just takes, my lips into his, my body in his capable arms, and shoves me gently into the counter, but nothing feels quite so gentle right about now. And fuck, I want to swear for the first time in my life, like if I don't I will combust quite spontaneously, so I do. It feels like he's burning me, his lips on mine, his hips against mine, and every part of him on me, on top of me, fucking eating me alive. I don't even think about stopping him, it doesn't even occur to me. Somewhere I hear music and shouts but something inside me is on fire so I dismiss everything. The bathroom counter should feel cold against my thighs, since I'm only wearing pantyhose, but it doesn't. I'm trying to remember everything about this moment because it feels so good, and I wonder what type of kisser Masen is, as he's kissing me, my legs around his hips, his body flush against me, but we're still apart as much can be kept apart and subconsciously I'm grateful for that little distance. His body is between mine and he's tried to shove me down into a horizontal position but I refuse. He kisses me like he reads poetry, I decide, with a passion I've never known, but I appreciate it, and I appreciate this, his lips pulling mine apart, his tongue in my mouth and we're loud, he groans, and I just want to scream, not questioning, not asking, and when my hands are on the tie, tugging it, tugging him closer, I know why I made him wear it. I hear how we sound for a brief second that I pull away, but Masen doesn't let me breathe. And it's everything I _never even imagined._ He bites my lower lip, takes my tongue into his mouth and puts his hands everywhere like that's okay.

Kissing Masen makes me want to scream for mercy, because he consumes me. He doesn't kiss like he did out there, careful kisses, watchful ones, but like he's been watching and waiting for one moment, for that one crazy second I'd be willing. Does he kiss girls like this, with his lips on every inch of their skin, stripping them naked, pulling down the zipper at the back of their dresses and running his hands everywhere, branding them his with every touch, and his hands are under my dress, unhooking my bra and his fingers on my nipples and _oh God_, I can't breathe. I can't think. I hate thinking he's done this with other girls, because I'm convinced that this isn't ordinary, that it's exceptional, and I burn everywhere, across my belly, down my legs and in between them, so he pushes them apart, shoves me against the mirror, and my back is bare and lets me feel everything. I moan like nobody's listening, because I'm loud and the walls are still echoing from the first time I felt how much Masen wants me.

"I am so tired," he pants, fuck, he sounds so hot. Is this what it feels like? Fuck, it feels so good that I can't even. I don't even register what he says as he puts his hands on my pantyhose and the sound of cloth ripping fills the air. "Of bloody denying myself _this_... you. I want to fuck you so hard right now that you'll scream for me, only me. And everything else will be a memory and you'll know how much I've wanted you, because this is how much I just wanted _you_."

Hearing it makes me aware, because his voice isn't like usual. It's so far gone that he's lost complete control and I never thought Masen was the type to lose control. Not until that night at his house. And even then, I clearly had no idea. "Oh, God,"

"I'm going to tell you how this feels, how you make me feel. You're fucking so soft here," his hands are between my legs, in me, inside everything hot and I scream just from the sensation of his fingers. "And I knew you would be. I thought about this, and you, so fucking much that I can't believe you're letting me touch you. I've wanted to do this for so long. I wanted to do this the first time you wore a dress, that first night we went out for dinner. I couldn't even resist asking you because I prayed you'd love the dinner and love _me_ and just want me to take you the way I wanted to. And I wanted to have you and I couldn't because you wouldn't even look at me.

"God, Bella, just, oh, please,"

I don't know what that means. I am panting, and he's touching and rubbing and he pushes away and puts his mouth where it needs to be and—

"Oh, I can't" talk think breathe fuck fuck _fuck_ "I can't. I—"

It takes me ten full seconds to realize that someone's pounding on the door, and I'm still heaving from the scream I uttered in desperation and Masen's not even listening as I urge him to stop, that someone could see, that someone wants in, not moving from where he is, and I moan and it starts all over again. I come, again, this time unwillingly, without even knowing why he wasn't done yet, and then he lets me go, all at once. It isn't hot anymore, it's not even warm. And Masen just smiles at me from across the washroom, his head against one of the stall doors.

"I'm not sorry."

I want to grin, smile, laugh, but I'm on this counter, against this mirror, and I remember meeting him here once and I wonder if this was what he wanted to do then, because I never thought for one second it could be like this, but it is. I pull myself up. "I can't think." I tell him, my voice hoarse. "You... _fuck_."

"You _never_ swear. I'm taking that as a compliment. Here," he zips me up, puts his hands between my legs and tells me to keep them apart. Puts a tissue there, then another, and proceeds to wipe me clean as gentle as a rabbit, before I'm finally breathing like a human being again.

And still I can barely concentrate, because he's touching me and... He's ripped my pantyhose so I'll have to walk home without any underwear on and..."That was..."

His face turns smug. "Wasn't it? I think I owe you now. Happy New Year, by the way."

I glare. Was it past midnight? "You are so cocky."

"You have no idea just how c_o_cky I can be. Come on," he pulls me to my feet. "Nice shoes, by the way." I look down at them, my usual black heels and wonder what the hell about them is so nice that he's complimented them twice in one night.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading, girls! Happy New Year to you all, and see you all soon! xo<em>


	12. Distractions, distractions

_Chapter eleven: Distractions, distractions_

_January 2007_

The absolute last semester pretty much figured itself out, because I couldn't for the love of me concentrate on anything. Angela gave up on me and kicked me out of most group meetings because I'd end up doodling on our circuit plans. Four days out of six I was allowed to be scatter brained, thank God, because I had classes only on two. Masen left me alone for the most bit, because I think he could tell that I had no idea what happens next, but when he didn't, I felt like he wanted me to become a part of him, and I suspect that isn't something you can do between watching YouTube videos and cooking dinner.

And if I thought kissing Masen would ever feel any less intense, I was wrong, because he never let me out of his sight and eventually we just stopped going out. When I had to work, his hands would be all over my legs because he'd volunteered to look over the bar and without Riley there, Victoria needed all the help she could find, so eventually he just got a semi-shift, if there exists such a thing. But we didn't want to be at the bar, not even when we had to, because Masen wasn't there four out of the five nights I had to be there, and even when we were there, we just wanted to be home. He quit just at the end of that month, but not without insisting that I quit, too. "There's so much we could be doing with some free time. And God knows we need it." He tells me as he drops me home, and I ponder on it. Later in the privacy of my apartment I realize I can't quit, not when there's some decent income for the time being, not when the recession's looming on all of IT, not when I desperately need that new laptop, to make sure the rent goes to where it should go while leaving me some extra cash to manage the rest of my expenses. How do I explain that to someone like Masen, though, someone who looks like money isn't really a problem, and probably never has been?

But all that doesn't concern me. I was happy, I really was. If not, I'd convinced myself I was because really, who wouldn't be with a guy like Masen in their life?

There was so much to do indoors now, without clothes, with just him, between my legs, on top of me, and I knew I would eventually lose my virginity to this man, and I would've never had it any other way.

And I'm so glad every other day that he mauled me in the men's restroom because really, my life would be so very incomplete without that one moment taking up every waking thought, because I think about it all the time, because it's how I know Masen has no words for what he feels for me.

"I'm originally from Chicago, but you know that."

I look up at him between scoops of ice cream in my mouth. "You told me that during dinner."

"I was adopted. You know this, too."

"No I do not. You never told me this." I drop my spoon into the bowl.

"You were drunk." He chuckles. "I remember telling you about Carlisle and Esme, too, but I'm not sure how much you registered. You probably don't remember."

I don't. I really don't. But it doesn't bother me, so I think I do. "You told me nothing happened that night."

He leans over me and kisses my nose. "Not that night, no. But two years later..."

I elbow him. Hard. "What else?"

"Well, my father was of some British aristocratic heritage, but I'm told it's a very distant connection. My mother was from Chicago, as well. They died in a car accident."

"Oh."

"Jasper and Rose are the Cullens' biological children. At six Carlisle found me.

"And... Alice is my twin."

This makes me leap. "What? Your twin?"

"We were adopted together. I didn't even know I had a twin till the system finally allowed that she be adopted by the Cullens when we turned nine. Invaded my room without my say so. Changed my life, she did. She knows me better than anyone. She remembered me as I was, and she's the only link between my biological parents and me." He looks at me emphatically. "And she adored you that night, at Larry's, that pest. Warned Jasper to keep it in his pants and everything."

My eyes bulge. "You... you liked me then?" I hadn't even guessed. "You were with that girl... what's her name?"

He doesn't tell me her name. He doesn't explain himself the way I hope he will. "I didn't care if I did, but Alice knew. She knows everything. It's a wonder how such a small person can keep so much to herself. She insisted I try with you, even if you don't feel the same way."

I remain silent. "What about Jasper and Rose?"

"Can't we chitchat later?" His hands roam until I groan, frustrated, and we don't talk for hours after that.

When I don't see Masen, I'm either on campus trying to finish my part of the project report, or desperately trying to pay attention to people who want drinks at Larry's. I run to James to tell him there's been a mix up and table eleven wants the chicken burger not the lamb, and that's when Victoria catches hold of me, right between the men's restroom and the kitchen exit.

"So, you and Masen?"

It doesn't occur to me that I could tell her off. For some reason, the first thing I do is succumb to her intimidation. Because, let's face it, Victoria is many things, and intimidating is one of them.

"I should warn you, he was with me two days before he decided he was done."

"Did he tell you that?"

Victoria shrugs, probably surprised that I could still use my voice. Quivering, I bring my legs together, reminding myself that she can't do anything but fire me. "Left me a voice message, but he did tell me. At least you won't be left hanging."

I guessed it was because Masen's messed around with a lot of girls that they decided they needed to take it out on me. The fact was that I'd never been in love, and this time I was falling fast, so I stand my ground and wonder what'll happen if I tell her I'm not interested in whatever she has to say about Masen. Of course, then I wonder how much of what she has to say has any ground to it, because I've seen Masen with girls, just not with any in the recent past. That's got to count for something.

And I realize that Victoria's got what she wanted.

"I don't know what you want from me."

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I guess I still want Masen, and I guess you know that by now. When he's done with you he'll come around here to find someone else. And I'll be here."

"Okay."

I move to walk out, but something about that irritates Victoria. "That's it?"

"Yeah." I sound sullen. I feel like shit. "I guess so."

February 2007

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Maybe." His eyes are wary, and it looks as if the L word has set off alarm bells. "What's up?"

I pick at the salad while deciding to cut to the point. "Victoria may have insinuated some things."

Without eating his salad, he puts his hand in mine, the setting sun falling in his eyes and face as he leans in and kisses my neck, then my lips. "Victoria is a possessive freak. I can't say I'm surprised. Quit."

"I can't. I'm used to some luxuries." I shrug.

"Like?"

"Well, I get to buy a laptop in a month if I keep this up. Just a month's salary left and I can quit."

The apartment grows eerily quiet. "You joined Larry's to buy a laptop?"

"I joined Larry's to keep myself occupied. The laptop is a bonus."

"Let me buy you one now."

I roll my eyes. "Even if that was an option, I'd be quite insulted if you felt I can't take care of myself."

"I know you can. I know you're more than capable." He pauses. "What about me taking care of you, though?"

It doesn't matter if he wants to take care of me, and if that makes my belly warm and happy, because I already know what to ask next. "Are we there?"

"Where?"

"At a place where we can talk about this?"

"You mean at my apartment, or at the men's bathroom in Larry's."

"It's washroom." Why do I correct him? My big mouth. "Not bathroom."

He sounds amused. I'm glad he sounds amused and not enraged, because I'd be angry if all he cared about was semantics. "You just never trust anything you can't control, do you?"

I want to smile, but it feels like an insult to give in that easily. "I don't want to control everything. I just don't like things uncertain."

"Well, can you stop acting like I'm going to get into your pants and run for Neptune the second I do."

I quietly focus on the salad in front of me, suddenly not so hungry, wondering why the room was so dark when I realize I haven't turned on a light. Moving to do so, I trample over the rug and then steady myself against Masen. When he doesn't let me go, I end up on his lap. I didn't realize the raging murmur that was coursing through my veins because as it dulled, right here, in Masen's arms, I realize how on edge I was.

"You don't have to act like you're okay with my past. I guess I see the point you were trying to make in La Vienna that night." His fingers trace my face, but I'm disgusted at how easily he's distracting me from the point.

"What did I say that night again?"

He smiles, and I feel it on my lips. "That I should be a real feminist."

"Like you are a real flirt?"

"Exactly like that."

* * *

><p><em>Note: It has been sometime, and not because I didn't have this chapter, or the next fifteen chapters, even, ready a month ago. That's just how masters degrees work. You go back to study and then just fall off the grid. But thanks to Fran for relentlessly pursuing me and making sure I remember that even if I think this story is so so, other people probably don't think it is worth that judgment just yet, not when it hasn't even reached half point.<em>

_So, how has the new year treated you so far?_

_Thanks for reading! Do review! xo_


	13. Firsts

_Chapter twelve: Firsts_

"Where did you study your undergrad?"

We went out that night, to the road down by the white house. It felt like we'd been living in a room for the past month, so it was different to be here, holding his hand, licking ice cream and having a nice time.

"I grew up in Chicago but Esme decided to send me away to boarding school where her uncle studied." He grinned. "I had a bit of a rebellious streak going on, pot and some minor incidents in school, and she didn't think Carlisle or she could make a difference."

I remain silent.

"Best decision she'd ever made, because it was straight after finishing high school that I knew what I wanted from my life. That's where I realized my love for poetry."

Something catches his attention across the horizon, in the sky, a shooting star, I realize. "Oh."

He kicks at the curb at an absent rock. "Carlisle wanted me to be a doctor, though."

I could see that. Masen could've been anything. "Why?"

"Well, he's a doctor, and he wanted to pass on the legacy, I suppose." Masen shrugs and his blue coat feels heavy against my arm.

We walk and walk some more before I forget to follow up with more questions, except one. "Where was Alice when you were away?"

"With the Cullens."

I want to ask if he misses her now. I want to tell him that I never had a sibling and if it feels like something you've left behind, a part of yourself, because I'm not close to anyone, because they look close and I know they are close. I get the feeling that that was obvious, but it feels like a loaded answer, loaded with emotions he didn't mean to betray from his tone. So I don't ask anything, really. I'm really just speaking my mind. "Why do you say it like that?"

"What?"

"Cullens. It's like you're blaming them for something."

He doesn't answer, and I take it for granted that there is more to the story, and that isn't something I'm privy to. I understood that perfectly well, and prayed that when the day came, Masen would show me the same courtesy.

"Tell me about Jake."

I look up from my project report, surprised. "What about him?"

"Why'd you like him?"

"He was nice. A friend."

"So you know him well?"

"Well enough," I'm correcting this passage half heartedly, but I can't blame Angela for putting me up to the whole thing. "What do you want to know?"

"Why you didn't sleep with him."

I don't answer.

"Okay, did he make you—" I just glare at Masen before he completes that sentence. "Laugh. What?"

"I know what you were going to say." I breathe. "We never got that far. To be honest, it was the one kiss. We cuddled one night.

"And for your other question: he did. He still does."

Masen is many things, but not an expressive man. Most days he'll hide every emotion he feels, because I doubt he even knows what he's feeling until it is too late. Now, though, he sounds shocked, and appalled, and even a little disgusted. "You still talk to him?"

My cardigan slips off my shoulder, and I'm cold, so I slip it back on and avoid looking at him. "If he's over at my parent's place, then yes."

"Wow," he sounds stunned, as if I've told him I've been a CIA agent all along. "You still talk to your ex, he still hangs out with your parents, and you get jealous every time Victoria looks at me."

"I do not get jealous. Victoria means nothing to me. She's your ex."

He doesn't speak for six seconds. "You sure look jealous."

What? "You're making stories out of nothing. Jake is like the son Charlie never had. I'm not taking that away from them." I feel the sigh escape me, and he looks outraged so I look at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I've got an early class tomorrow. Are we having dinner together?"

"Sure." I don't sound convinced. "Have I upset you somehow?"

"I don't know. I guess it makes me feel... satisfied that you've never been with someone before. Then I got into the details."

"Mighty hypocritical of you."

"I know. I know."

We don't talk for two minutes, and I go back to my document. That's three hundred pages waiting to be done. And if I listen to what Masen has to say then I'm probably going to drive myself crazy. "Irina. She was a distant relative of the Denalis." Masen scoffs. "Lord knows why I dated all three of them."

"Who?"

"Well, Kate, Tanya and Irina are second cousins. I met Irina first, and I kind of just... I loved her enthusiasm for literature, for life. She was fun, smart, interesting, and beautiful. And I was smitten within days, though it took me weeks to make a move, and Irina's not the make-a-move kind of girl. She was my first, and I think I was even in love with her at the time. I can't completely be sure, because let me tell you this, all those Denali girls know how to hypnotise a guy into thinking he's in love."

I try to tell myself this is the past, and it doesn't matter, and of course every rational part of me listens to that.

"When I found out she was cheating me I have no choice but to sleep with Tanya. And we'd been dating ever since. That was four years ago."

The first half of that goes right past me, but I give m take on it nonetheless. "You were together a while."

"We were apart longer. Three of those four years were spent in different continents before Tanya decided to bring her business here. I guess I was trying to send Irina a message, and I did. She fucked me over, and I did the same to her in my own way."

"And Kate?"

He took a breath. "I need to smoke, Bella. Can we take this outside?"

He doesn't ask as much as I want him to. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you're different."

"You liked me while Tanya was still in the picture."

"Actually, I did. You're right. But you didn't give a fuck if I did, if Jasper did, or if any guy fucking wanted to give you the moon, so technically, I still did the right thing. I had to break up with her, it was a long time coming, the sex wasn't half as good as..." he stops. What? This conversation went from everywhere to nowhere to... this.

"Half as good as what?"

He cuts me off midway, and then he never hears my question, so it goes unanswered. "So I did. End things with her."

"And Bree?"

"I met her at AU. She's a master's student. Was. Passed out this year." Pause. Breathe. "I have to smoke."

He left after slipping on his pants and coat, left me wondering, left the apartment unhappily silent, but by the time he was back I was just confused, wondering why the hell he'd started on the Denalis and their life and their connection with him. When I attempt to bring the topic up again, he looks like I'm talking about switchboards and mini-circuitry because that's how clueless he looks, so I tell him what he wanted to hear.

"Nothing's ever felt like this, and I'm not sure if it's love," I feel like crying. Why does this feel so intense and out of my control? "But this has been something I might never come to regret. So please stop trying to make me hate you.

"Jake meant nothing to me." It's a silent confession, because it's the truth, something I've never said out loud because I've always been scared that someone will know. "I mean, he was a great friend, but that's it. It's why I've never done what I'm doing with you, because I never wanted to hurt someone like that again."

I think Masen understands. Maybe Kate liked him, or maybe Tanya did. Maybe he knows what's like. Maybe that's why we fit. "He liked you." He says with understanding.

I correct him quietly, my eyes on the pages in front of me. "He was in love with me. I wish I was flattered into loving him back, I wasn't. I wish I had the guts to tell him that I was just tipsy, that it was just a kiss, and ended it there, but I didn't. It's not a laughing matter, because I think it's what ruined our friendship when I realized what I did. Before you, he was the closest I had to what could be a friend."

That calms everything, and I realize how long I'd wanted to say what I finally did. The air is easy, and Masen sprawls himself on the couch, his legs on my lap, my document strewn apart on the apartment floor and that's how I wake many times during the night to complete my job because tomorrow's the day I give in my work and two months from then will be the final exam and...

"Masen?"

"Hmm?"

"What about Kate?"

He doesn't answer me for a long time. The sun rises outside, and it makes me realize I've been up all night, and so has he. I should brew some more coffee, but I'm so exhausted that I can't even think of getting up, and I've forgotten the question I asked.

"She was just collateral damage. I didn't mean for her to happen."

"And that's your list?"

"I was never unfaithful, if that's what you're insinuating."

I wasn't insinuating that, but it's good to know. Three girls. I could see myself handling them. "What about Victoria?"

"She wanted me; she tried to get to me. We went out twice after Tanya when I realized she was a freak. That's it."

"Never slept with her?"

He scoffs. "No. Is that all?"

I want to kiss him, but I resist. "That's all."

* * *

><p><em>Note: You know, I always wonder if loving someone involves loving what they left behind. Just rambling. And a special extra for those who like reading this. Thanks for that. Do review, you. xo Dawn<em>


	14. May You Be

_Chapter thirteen: May you be_

September 2007

After graduation, finding a job was my biggest priority, so to get paid a full salary, so I finally got off Charlie's ass, but Charlie never complains, so I don't bother half as much as I should, and that's probably because at the back of my mind, everything was about Masen.

Masen, this, Masen, that, Masen who gives hugs like nobody's business and touches me (appropriately, at all the right times) between dinners, during lunch, during my shift at Larry's… Masen became the centre of my universe and I was finally not afraid to admit it.

And the days pass as September turns a week old and I'm dreading my birthday, mainly because this year there's no reason I shouldn't expect plans, and I don't, but I'm afraid of them, too. I hate surprises, all kinds, because my face gives it away. Always. I always end up looking either like a banchee or a baboon or a mix between the two, and all those expressions basically sum up my distaste for surprise birthday gifts and parties. And I inform Masen, but he chomps on his chicken roll and pretends the empty space in my living room actually filled up with television. Either that, or he's telling me it's more interesting than I am. I'm not insulted either way.

Masen remains unbelievably patient with me as far as sex goes, so I just asked him if he didn't want to have sex with me one blue evening. He pointedly, repeatedly, proceeds to torture me and makes me come more times than I can count, and I learn to repay the favour in full that evening. What felt like a blue evening isn't anymore, and suddenly I feel like a temptress, or a porn star. Or, for a change, a pleasant perfect fit between the two.

"We'll have sex," he reveals a little before my mouth goes where he wants it and he shrivels up, words escaping him. "When you're ready."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know. Right now. Tomorrow. Five years. Whatever, Bella."

It doesn't occur to me that his patience could account for anything along the lines of love, because Masen made it very clear that he wasn't the kind of guy to fall in love. Well, he said he didn't do long term, not love, but he did fall in love and I should know better than anyone that that sucks all kinds of baboon behind. I never assumed this was a full time thing, but I did assume that I would see him tomorrow, and the day after that. And it was pointedly obvious that Masen assumed this very same thing, as well. It wasn't all my doing. Nothing about our relationship felt temporary, and in all honesty, that was how I even got through the days when we wouldn't see each other, which was a lot. We didn't see each other a lot over the weekdays. And the weekends looked like Christmas for us, even if it was just September.

So when he's done, I torture him till he isn't. And when he looks like he's going to leave me, even just for the day, the hour, the minute to go the bathroom, I try to tell myself that we might never be done, not with the gaping hole he might leave in my life that suspiciously resembles his form, his outline, him.

…

For my birthday, he gifts me antlers, and I don't get the significance. I hold them in my hand, velvet brown and soft, and Angela bursts laughing. "It was my idea."

"It was the antlers that got me to pay attention to you that first night." Masen reveals as he sips his coffee. We are a little tipsy; the three of us, but it doesn't make my happiness fake. Because the antlers... I remember them.

"Jess and I wore them." I wear them, smile and take photos with Masen. Well, Angela takes them. "She wanted to go as reindeer to this party downtown and... God, I wish I hadn't been drunk like a sailor, so I'd remember that damned night."

And every time we talk about that night, Masen's eyes glisten with something unsaid. I want to ask him what he's holding back from me, if I'm a virgin, if we're doing things backwards, if he's lying about a girlfriend, a mistress, a wife, what the heck was it that he couldn't just tell me, but I knew somewhere that it could just be my own paranoia, so I don't ask questions. I don't reveal my fears.

And that's what I learnt to do that year. Learn how to keep my fears in check, even when somewhere else, somewhere very real, I know my fears are a reality.

…

_November 2007_

With college over, I have no excuse to stick around during the holidays so I head back to Forks. Like, officially. Give out my old address and decide to stick it out till the recession looks a little less devastating and my life sorts its own self out. I send out a resume to some companies for a job but never hear back, so I leave it at that. When it doesn't worry me, it begins to worry me. I was trying to believe that this would work itself out, since being an engineer had been my lifelong dream, but that didn't mean it'd have to work out today.

"How long will you be gone?"

I pack my things slowly, wishing the owner had given me an agreement for one month's pay and not two. August and September went by slowly, and I passed my time reading through research papers, knowing I probably would do my masters if I didn't manage to find a job. I needed a scholarship for that, which I would get, but that wasn't the problem. "Till I figure out a job prospective."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know, Masen."

He doesn't like that answer, and sitting here on the floor, feeling alone and cold, I don't like how it sounds either, even if it did come from me.

"I promise to come back for the holidays."

"I'll come there."

I turn to look at him. He shrugs his flannel pants obviously loose, almost ready to fall. I want them to fall. I will them to fall. "You will?"

"Sure. I need to visit Esme, and she's been begging me. Work's a little slow, I'm not progressing anywhere near to getting to my thesis. May as well."

Looking at him, I feel my heart sink. "How will this work?" I'd meant to just ask myself.

"However we want it to."

I knew things took time, good things, especially. I knew it didn't come within the day, the hour, the minute. How I wish I knew that about Masen at the time.

…

"I know you don't like me, but I was looking out for you."

Victoria reluctantly gives me my last pay. I don't see Seth around, but I'm sure I'll run into him elsewhere. Forks, to be exact. "I believe you." I tell her, because she's a bitch, and she'd kill me if she thought she had a chance with Masen, but she wasn't all bad. She never cheated me out of my pay, my work here. "When I'm back, keep a spot for me. I think I may need to become a waitress when my engineering ship goes down in flames."

She smiles, happy that there's a chance I could end up miserable. "I will."

Riley tears up and hugs me. "I meant to ask you out."

I frown. "Don't you have a thing going on with boss lady over there?"

He frowns. "You know about that?"

I want to tell him the whole world probably does, but move into the kitchen to thank James. He's different from when I last met him, and blonde, for some reason. "What did you do to your hair?"

"Trying on a new look. Come visit soon."

I nod. "It's like I'm looking at the sun. And it's like you and Riley are twins, now that you're both blonde."

He swats my ass, and that's where my cue kicks in to leave Larry's. It feels like its forever, and I never realized how much I loved it here.

…

Charlie bought a computer and couldn't bother to set it up. It's where I find him when I've arrived home from SeaTac, and I feel cold and helplessly shiver, but it's great to see Charlie again. He hugs the breath and warmth back into me, and I think of how this is the safety I feel when I'm with Masen. I should tell him about Masen, but I don't, not yet. Not when he's got a whole computer in shambles, with the drives hanging about and the motherboard crying in one corner of the kitchen.

"You were always great with gadgets, Bell." He smokes a cigar on his favourite chair. "When do you think you'll find a job?"

I'm using a screwdriver and trying my best to avoid thinking of my lack of prospects. "I'm hoping soon."

"If you don't?"

"I'm hoping to go back to school."

I'm not looking at Charlie because I don't need his support on this, I know I don't. So when he's crouching in front me, his arm on my shoulder, I'm surprised at how much I craved his support. "Anything you want, Bells, you don't hesitate to ask."

I nod, and tear up, and wipe my eyes. We don't hug, because it isn't like that with Charlie. Charlie doesn't hover, thank God.

And that's when Renee comes home from wherever it was that she went.

…

"How's your salad dear?"

I know I'm not vegan, even the vegetables I'm eating are laughing at the lie I've told, but something about Renee cooking for me... I just couldn't stand it, so I tell her the lie and let her believe it. I couldn't stand her taking care of me, but it wasn't that alone. She and I never fit together, and in one room, we were only looking to blow things up, and not with a countdown. It could happen any moment and that didn't scare me.

"Good. Thanks for bringing the spinach."

"No problem, dear. How's the steak, Charles?"

"Good."

And that's it. My parents don't talk anymore, and I accept the silence.

"How long do you think you'll be here for, Bella?"

"A few months, tops. Angela and I decided we'd work together on an idea we developed for satellite communications for our final project. If nothing, I'll sell the circuit."

I was mainly talking to Charlie, but Renee pretends I was including her in the picture, too. "Stay as long as you want, Bella. We've missed you."

I want to ask her if she really has. Looking into her eyes, I see that she means me no harm, but managed to ruin the best parts of my life just being that unintelligent. "Thanks." I say, and I focus on my salad again.

* * *

><p><em>Note: I was having this moment of self doubt: why an MA, why the arts, why write write write like nobody's business... couldn't I have been better at something easier... something else... yada yada yada and I thought, oh well, may as well post some updates. Thanks for reading! Review!<em>


	15. Trying Times

_Chapter fourteen: Trying Times_

"How's home?"

I look out my window, at the tree that hasn't moved, at the police car that Charlie still drives, at things that haven't been moved from their place since I left back in 2003. "Exactly as I left it."

"You sound weird."

"I feel weird. I feel... stifled."

"How's Renee? Charlie?" Pause. "Jake?"

I laugh. "I can't believe this. A gorgeous guy who makes me come like no one's business is jealous of a guy I dated for a minute."

Pause. "I'm not jealous."

I laugh, three small words on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out, but I don't let them. Spilling is never not-dangerous. "How's work?"

"Sucks stinking balls. I don't know, Bella. Remember when I got stoned and told you I may not get a PhD?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that should actually be plan A, that I choose not to finish this, because plan B might just kill me."

"What's plan B?"

"Trying to finish this."

I want to laugh, but I settle into bed under the covers and breathe, letting the old smell of naphthalene balls fill my nose, the stench now attacking my every pore but I don't fight it. I don't miss much about home, but I always wish I brought this purple blanket with me whenever I'd head back to DC. "I didn't realize how hard the academic world is. Why do you do it?"

"Why do we do the things we do? We're wired one way, and that's our world and our understanding of it. I'd be no good at farming or engineering," he chuckles. "Hence, here I am."

I sigh. "I'm going to get a job. I can't imagine sitting around while dream jobs don't walk my way. Renee is killing me."

"You are tense every time your mother comes up."

"My mother... I haven't called her that in centuries. Don't call her that." I turn on my side. "It feels like an insult to mothers all over the galaxy, aliens included."

"She can't be that bad."

"I have a list of the things she's done snuck away in my head that make bad mothers look like angels. Get me drunk on New Year's and your privy to all sorts of screw ups my 'mother' allowed so you never think she's not that bad."

He laughs; that brute. The nerve of him. "I'd rather you soberly put the logic out to me. I can't say your drunken self likes people very much."

"You sound like you know her."

"Very closely." Pause. Shuffle. "She's the reason I know you."

Masen shuffles some more, but he doesn't hurry me. Not that he ever says, "Hurry up! I've got places to be, poets to intellectually masturbate to!" but, you know, he doesn't hurry me. I'm here and he's here and it's an unhurried moment in this lukewarm moment, with nothing but my table light to dispel the darkness. I am, though. I'm in a hurry to figure my life out and get the hell away from Renee and her misplaced nonsense but Masen sounds like he's content, happy. I hate that. I hate how differently we see every little thing. "I'm sleepy as hell. Why aren't you home?"

"I don't want to go back to an empty apartment. Decided to settle on my couch here."

"They let you do that?"

"So long as my mind is squeezing out every drop of ink from Cummings's poetry then yes, I can do as I please."

We giggle, and I turn slowly to lay on my side, and the window is dark, as if nothing is beyond it. Even if there was someone looking through it, right at me, I'd probably never know. And I'm too calm and content suddenly, all too abruptly, to care, because it sounds like he misses me. No, I know it. It's not possible to miss someone so much and not have them feel the same way. "I miss you." I say anyway, letting the window stare at me darkly as the words escape into the dim room, without echo, within a second.

"I know, Bella."

I drift off to sleep and wake up with the phone in my face. I don't remember the last thing Masen said.

..**.**

The sun isn't in my face, like in DC. Mornings, DC's got sunshine. Forks, though, has always been another story. A story that makes me wonder, a story that makes me want to write one of my own. I decide to look up the Diner, just to see the fuss and the hullabaloo, and boy, is there one right then. There's a conference in town on biotechnology and nuclear energy and they're all at the Diner because that's where everyone eats, with a certain someone who looks familiar right in the middle of the group. "Alice?"

Her gray eyes sparkle, and her entire form practically bounces at the sight of me, a smile breaking on her pink lips, her hair swishing in agreement. "Hi, Bella!"

"You're—" I'm ambushed with a hug I don't expect, and it's warm to receive. "You're here. Masen didn't tell me you were—"

"No," her eyes remain sparkling gray, but something along her lips falters. "I wanted to surprise him. So don't tell him, okay?"

I laugh, stuffing my pockets with awkwardly misplaced fingers. "I won't. What're you doing here?"

"Oh, figuring out my life." Alice sighs. A laugh roars into the small, cramped Diner, and the Meta of it doesn't escape me. How about that, a diner called Diner. "Turns out the corporate IT world isn't doing it for me, so I'm not sure whether quitting my job was the right thing to do or not, but I've done it... and here I am."

I don't know why that scares the hell out of me. "Did you tell your family?"

"Not yet." She sighs again, and then her expression changes to something like guilt. "This is an uncomfortably intense conversation much too fast into our introduction."

Her eyes crinkle when I say, "That's the Cullens I know and love."

"What're you doing here?" She decides to ask as I walk away from the door, the bell going off as another customer enters after me. How long had we been blocking that door with our reunion?

"Figuring out job options." I shrug. I shouldn't, but at this point I'm just resigned. I don't like worrying, and I don't like thinking about why I worry, either. "I don't know what I want to do yet."

"I could help you out. I've got plenty of contacts who could hook you up."

"With IT work? No thanks." I say without remorse. "Any leads on electronic design?"

"A few. One, actually," she looks thoughtful. "Come by the house."

"Where do you stay?"

She gives me an address and we part with another hug. "See you soon, Bella."

I smile, suddenly so happy that there's a part of Masen with me. Suddenly, I know what he meant about Alice being a link.

…

Roy owns the Diner and offered me close to nothing, compared to Larry's, for waiting on tables and opening and closing shop. He's an old man with dark brooding written all over him, as if he's drowning in some sort of grief that is clearly nonexistent to me. He doesn't say hello, talk or even care for what happens to the Diner so long as he gets to cook, and no one's making any noise. Basically, the Diner was the most depressing place in the history of depressing places, and I thought I was living in one of them.

I got the job after he looked me up and down and was told that someone named Rachel was pregnant and had to take maternity leave. I nod dutifully at everything he is, because he's a man of little words, and when he's done I remember nothing but how much I felt the need to please him. He seems unhappy, and that's exactly what I need, an unhappy brooding man to pick me up where I was last. It'll keep the audience distracted from the spotlight that had a tendency to shift to Renee every moment or two.

My shifts ranged between eleven in the morning to nine in the night. I took a long day shift because it didn't seem sensible that I stay home any longer than that, and when I was home, I just wanted to sleep like the dead, nothing else. No dinner, no chitchatting with Renee, no awkward interactions that would set me off in a spiral. There's no bar, so it's just food I can drop on strangers, or people I'd like to think I don't know but they probably know me anyway (cause that's how Forks works.) While Renee isn't pleased to hear it, Charlie simply asks if that means he'd get free burgers when he drops in.

"What will the people think? You've got a degree, you're a college graduate." Her eyes run over my hands and then she takes them into hers. I snatch them away, but she doesn't seem to understand that I don't care for her opinions, or her. Not anymore. The washed out dining room comes into view as I let my gaze waver across it, across the faded wallpaper, across the scraped wooden floors. "You can do so much better than this. You don't need to waitress at the Diner. I'm sure your father can—"

"If you're not okay with this," my eyes are on the dining table at this point, on the bare, plastic dining table that we've owned since I couldn't remember, that could do with some scrubbing, and I wonder what kind of housekeeper she is, letting things slide right under her nose while she leaves Charlie to it, whatever _it_ is. Is he supposed to take care of the house, feed himself, seeing that she couldn't cook to save herself, and go to work? More importantly, if she can't take care of the house, and if that's how spent for time she is that she can't even put a tablecloth on a dying dining table, what is she so busy doing in the first place? "I'll move out and find someplace to live," I don't want to continue, but the look on her face, like she can tell me what to do, especially now, especially right now, makes me burst. "But I think you should stop trying to tell me what to do and leave the thinking to me." I don't pause, or stop, to see how she reacts. I stand and walk to the stairs when I hear my father, Charlie Swan, say the words.

"Bella, you get back here. Don't talk to your mother like that."

And that's almost the last straw, except there's already one person who hates Renee Millie Swan in this house. I don't think there needs to be two.

* * *

><p><em>Note: Can't you not whine, Dawn? Nope. Not possible. What makes Bella human? Just wondering out loud. Do review, you lovebugs! xo<em>


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